


The More They Stay the Same

by TopazVulpix



Series: Forgotten Secrets [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avenger Loki (Marvel), But mostly weekly/biweekly, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Difficult Decisions, Family Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Mostly we publish our first drafts like MEN, Odin's A+ Parenting, Original Character(s), Responsibility, Sorta beta read?, Updates Sporadically, Work In Progress, and probably some torture, my favorite problematic icicle, still planning some bits, warning there's gonna be violence later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 17:44:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 39,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12893376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TopazVulpix/pseuds/TopazVulpix
Summary: What if when Odin fell into Odinsleep (AKA his cop-out for his horrible parenting) in the first Thor, Loki looked for some answers? When he delves into Odin's mind though, he learns many more dangerous and more terrifying secrets than he ever imagined possible...





	1. Secrets

“Because you could never have a **Frost Giant** sitting on the throne of Asgard!” Loki seethed. Everything he’d known: all lies. The love of his father he’d strived to achieve every day of his life: worthless. He stared down at Odin’s unconscious form before him. He’d done this. He pushed his father to this breaking point. But did it matter? Odin had no qualms about lying to him. The moment Loki had wanted answers the Allfather had put himself into a position that would give Loki nothing. No, that didn’t sit right.

Ignoring his overbearing impulse to call the guards to tend to his father – if Odin could even be called that still – Loki knelt down next to the sleeping king. He stretched out a hand. His palm stopped just above the Allfather’s temple. Guilt froze him in place. Was he really going to do this? Was he even powerful enough to do this? It was not a technique he practiced often. Decades had passed since he had learned it. Perhaps he shouldn’t-

 _“I wanted only to protect you from the truth.”_ Odin’s words rang clear in his head, clearing the fog of doubt that covered his mind. He was a prince of Asgard. He was one of the most powerful sorcerers alive. He was far more collected than his brother. He was the next in line for the throne with Thor banished and Odin decommissioned. A king should not have his thoughts clouded with unanswered questions. He pressed his palm to Odin’s forehead and let his magic seep into the memories kept within. _What truths are you hiding?_

 

~~~

 

 

Loki thought he’d lost himself under the barrage of information. He couldn’t see, couldn’t feel his body, couldn’t hear the crackle of flames from the torches in the vault. He was trapped in blackness, emptiness.

And then there was light. He saw Odin, younger, much younger, standing side by side with a woman he did not recognize.

 _Rinda.”_ Her name echoed through Loki’s mind in Odin’s voice. It was spoken in the same way Odin addressed Frigga. Was this woman the Allfather’s lover? One before Frigga? She seemed familiar, the same dark hair and emerald tinged eyes as himself. Those qualities were mirrored in the small child she held in her arms, a tiny copy of the woman standing before him.

 _“Hela.”_ This name Loki heard the Allfather speak many times over. Some utterances were full of pride and warmth. Others tinged with disappointment and fear. Those reminded him of the tone Odin had used with Loki himself only moments ago.

He watched as Hela grew, both in size and in power. Odin doted on her every whim, praised her every increase in strength. He gazed at her fondly as she led thousands of warriors into battle astride a monstrous wolf. Loki could not hear its name over the screams of the dying civilizations being crushed underfoot of the ‘noble’ Aseir armies.

Ever present was Hela’s laugh, growing ever more cruel and demented. The sight of her wielding Mjolnir was nauseating. Moments raced past his eyes of her using it to tear through homes and warriors more ruthlessly than even Thor had done during his rampage on Jotunheim. The shining metal that he’d come to associate so closely with his golden brother had been coated in blood: the blood of warriors, mothers, infants.

He was grateful when the scene changed. His urge to vomit at the sight of the sadistic and absolute destruction was replaced with guilt that weighed heavy in his stomach. He saw the Valkyrie swarming across the sky, leading a valiant charge into a sea of portals through which Hela’s oppressive aura leaked like a plague. He did not see them return, and the guilt pressed down so heavily that he feared his organs would drop right through the floor. He knew the guilt was not his own; it was Odin’s, but he could not relish in it for at this moment he shared every one.

The guilt turned to obsession as the warlike daughter and Asgard’s history of ruthless conquering was erased from the common knowledge. Every trace was scrubbed out. Every story banned from being told so that Odin’s new queen and future heir would not have to live with that guilt.

What was not erased was the memory of a conqueror, one that represented everything Hela had been manifesting into. He courted death. He craved it. He bent others to his will through torture and manipulation so that they could be used as pawns in his complex game. Thanos had been brought to Odin’s attention, so too were the items he sought. The Infinity Stones were the most powerful items in creation and would bring destruction to every realm and universe imaginable if the Mad Titan were to take hold of them. Loki knew that much on his own.

The memories still didn’t end though. Odin’s frantic search for information regarding the stones his abject terror at realizing the Tessaract was one of them, the war with Jotunheim he began in an effort to keep the Jotuns from realizing that fact. The victory Odin had reveled in cut short upon his discovery of a small being hidden among the treasures in the most secretive parts of Laufey’s fortress. Abandoned, or possibly hidden away on a small balcony Asgard’s forces couldn’t reach was a crying an infant no older than the Young Thor still kept hidden away in the castle.

Loki attempted to swallow the lump in his throat as he watched Odin lift him, a tiny, helpless blue infant, off the stone pedestal. He watched Odin smile sadly as his infant took on Aesir form.

“She always knew how to spite me,” Odin said softly, looking up from the infant held in his arms. “Rinda, I have failed in raising one of your children. I shall not fail in raising this one.” The words hit Loki like a train. His mind went blank and stayed that way as he saw what lay on the other side of the pedestal: a cloaked, frosted-over body with dark black hair.

 

~~~

 

 

When he finally felt himself returned to his senses, it was all Loki could do to scramble to the edge of the stairs, away from the Allfather’s sleeping form, and heave the contents of his stomach onto the cold stone floor. He took ragged breaths in the silence that followed, fighting down the urge to continue retching because he had nothing left to spill.

There was so much information, so many secrets Odin had kept hidden for centuries that Loki could barely process it all. His mother had been there, his sister. He wanted to laugh and to cry and to murder that Allfather there on the spot. He opted for none of those options. They were too wild and reckless. He could not afford to become those things now when he had inadvertently sent Thor away for being the same.

Instead he prepared himself for the show he knew he had to put on before he could hide himself away. He didn’t know how long he and Odin had been down in the vault. The memory extraction had only taken a split second, but he couldn’t tell how long he been retching breathlessly over the side of the stairs, how long he’d taken to get his thoughts in order.

With a flick of his wrist, he erased all evidence of the inner chaos that threatened to lay waste to his mind and positioned himself in a crouch at the Allfather’s side. He forced himself to look into Odin’s face. He’d much rather collapse onto the cool stones to ease his throbbing headache and wait to fade into oblivion, but he needed to move, to act. There was too much in this small treasure room to contain any longer.

“Guards! Guards come quickly!” He shouted, surprised at how easy it was to make his voice crack in distress. He stepped back as the einherjar posted outside the large doors came rushing in. It was difficult to fake a look of concern for the man he’d once called his father. The guards asked if he would like to accompany Odin to the healing room. Loki shook his head, not trusting himself to speak outside his pre-determined script.

“Ensure… my mother is informed immediately,” he stated. The words tasted like ash on his tongue. _Not your mother. Only pretended to be. She kept secrets just like him._ He chose to wait, or perhaps it was that he could not move until Odin was out of sight before making his way out of the castle.

There was no use in going to his chambers. Frigga would send for him there, or, worse, Sif or the Warriors Three would be waiting to beg him to go request the Allfather to end Thor’s banishment again. _It’s always about you isn’t it Thor._ The name sat heavy in his mind given the wealth of new monstrosities he’d been enlightened to. He needed to be away, away from the palace, away from Odin, away from everything that so incessantly reminded him of his siblings, if they could even be called that.

He was grateful his feet knew the path to the stables without needing his mind’s aid. He brushed past the einherjar guards without a word. They would find out about Odin soon enough, and assume that’d he’d taken a ride to process that fact.

In the meantime, Asgard would need a new king. Frigga was never really fond of direct rule. _No, just fond of lies and secrets._ He bit back a frustrated scream as he readied his horse, taking off for the forests in an effort to find some peace to at least attempt to organize the chaos in his buzzing mind.

 

It was Fandral who found him. Leaning back against a tree, arms crossed lazily over his chest and head leaning back against the rough bark, Loki figured he looked almost peaceful. He, of course, knew that his appearance was a carefully constructed facade. His mind still had not calmed but was at least more organized than it had been before.

He’d left his horse just off the main trail and walked into the woods until he was sure he’d disappeared from view. He cloaked himself from Heimdall’s view and conjured a mirror, staring at his own pale reflection. So similar. Same looks, same tendencies. _You have blood of two monsters running through your veins._ As for his father…Laufey was certainly no better than Odin, but his blood made Loki different from Hela, different from Thor. He was something new altogether. _A whole new kind of monster._ The thought, however horrible, allowed him to quiet one of the storm clouds in his mind.

He was not Thor. He was not Hela. He was not Odin or Laufey. He was probably some part Frigga, that much he could admit, but he could not say if he was like his birth-mother. He did not know enough about her. Still, he was half Aesir. Asgard could still probably be called his home...but...

He took a slow, steady breath through his nose and summoned his power. The transformation was different when he controlled it, less overwhelming. He still felt as if it was suffocating him. The sight of the ruby eyes and patterned skin made his stomach drop. His bones would have frozen in place had they not already been so unsettlingly cold.

Rinda. Rinda had seen something in this terrifying visage that was worthwhile, that was deserving of love. _Hadn't she?_ Maybe Odin’s memories could tell him more, but it was too risky to pry further. The Allfather could wake and smite him for learning his secrets. Loki wouldn’t have blamed him. He would burn himself too if he weren’t such a coward.       

A distant whinny tore him from his thoughts. He dispersed the mirror and pulled his Aesir skin back over the frosty visage. It did nothing to warm him. The trip back to his horse seemed longer than he’d thought it was. Everything seemed to move slower when his mind wouldn’t rest. He adopted his tranquil stance against the tree, considering his options. He was likely to become acting king in the Allfather’s absence. What he did with that power would determine if he really was something more, or far less, than Odin and Laufey.

“Loki!” Fandral called as he came galloping up the trail. His serious tone, so different from his normal flippant moods, grated on Loki’s already frayed nerves.

He let out a long breath through his nose, preparing himself for the speech Fandral was to bring. Asgard needed Thor back. He bristled at the thought. It was of course supposed to be Loki’s job to go convince the Allfather Thor was worthy. The crown prince – _the second child of Odin, the first being a murderous hag that was banished to oblivion and the last being a half-bred infiltrator to the royal family_ – needed to be brought home. He almost looked forward to the biting insults he would throw at the man to get him to leave.

“Loki, you need to get back to the palace,” Fandral began, dismounting his horse and walking over to the prince. There was a look in his eyes, something guarded, concerned. _He doesn’t trust you. He thinks this is all a ploy for you to grab the throne._

“Because you need Thor back on Asgard. Save your breath Fandral. I can make no bargain with the Allfather. He’s a bit busy being nearly comatose,” Loki spat, wrinkling his nose at his breath. It smelled of blood and bile. How many times had he bitten his tongue in an effort to keep from screaming on his trip out to the forest? He’d lost count.

“I am well aware of the King’s situation. That is why the others and I have been searching for you for the past few hours. Your mother requests your presence at the Allfather’s side, immediately.” So, news had traveled fast, or perhaps he had been out here longer than he’d thought. Had it been dark out when he’d left the stables? He shook his head and pulled himself to his feet, more steadily than he would have thought possible.

“Fine. Ride ahead. Tell her I will be there with all due haste,” he said. Fandral dismissed himself with a curt nod and mounted his steed again, taking off back up the path. Loki turned to his own rowan mount and patted it on the nose gently. At least it did not seem to look at him any differently.

  
He had a plan, as he always did. The whispers of it had been in his mind from the moment he had learned his true heritage, but now he had a better one, a complete one. Hopefully it would make his mother proud, make him worthy of the faith she had in him. _Doubtful.You aren’t worthy of a family of desecrated corpses._ The new war between Asgard and Jotunheim would end as quickly as it had begun. All he needed to do was find a way to occupy Thor’s friends.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone so this is the first chapter of what may be the biggest AU I've even conceived. Everything from Thor on is going to be different, but I'm planning to (for now) pretty much stick to the timeline the MCU has set up. Any ideas/plot predictions/feedback on this is GREATLY appreciated. I'm always trying to become a better writer. The next chapter is already in progress and should be up soon. (Chapter lengths will vary cause I know this was quite a long one but they should all be sizable.) Thanks for reading!


	2. Making Enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guess who didn't really sleep last night cause they were avoiding their responsibilities and writing? It was me, but on the bright side we've gotten a new chapter out of and I have a solid vision of how to connect this chapter to a future one I've pretty much written. Hope you all enjoy!

Odin’s private library was simpler than he’d imagined. It was no less gaudy than any room in Asgard’s palace, but the Old Man – as Loki had taken to calling him recently given it preserved the apathy he wanted to feel for the Allfather – had obviously wanted to keep the room as nondescript as possible should anyone come across it on accident.  It was doubtful that would happen.

He’d had to carefully modify or completely dismantle over a dozen intricate spells surrounding the room, and had still nearly gotten his head taken off by a stray rune carving tucked into the shadow of a column that he’d missed. Regardless, he’d made it. The knowledge kept in the packed shelves was the most powerful and most forbidden of all the tips, tricks and histories – surprisingly including the tales of Hela’s maniacal debauchery – the Old Man had squirreled away over the years. And it was his now.

He set to making a list of the surviving spells protecting this stash of knowledge and weaving in his own workings to better hide it and himself from anyone else who tried to enter. It was grueling work. The Old Man’s primitive but powerful magic was at first resistant to Loki’s more elegant sorcery. Still, magic was magic and if one knew the right words to speak any rule could be bent to the speaker’s whim. He was very good with words.

The work lasted deep into the night. He still wasn’t completely satisfied with his new barrier but figured it would suffice until he could work out and repair any flaws. Loki himself was glad he’d made sure his absence would be overlooked.

“I, accept this responsibility,” he’d told the Allmother, Gungnir still feeling alien to his tight grip “but I will need the evening to come to terms with its gravity. I will be prepared in the morning to begin addressing my duties.” His appointment to the position of king had been a brief exchange. The Allmother had spoken comforting words as if she knew what Loki originally had gone down to the vault to learn, but Loki asked her none of the questions burning away at his soul. He couldn’t yet. He hadn’t really even listened to her words at all.

Gungnir still sat passively against the wall where he’d left it when he came into the hidden sanctuary. The metal had been buzzing and warm to the touch ever since he’d first laid hands on it. _Fury at you. The unworthy wielder, the monster king._ He ignored the urge to just leave it behind. Without it, others, particularly Thor’s friends, would likely think him lying about his position and would become more suspicious of him. _As if that’s possible. They already all hate you more than all of your feral kin combined._

He sighed and picked up the weapon. It still buzzed aggressively but was no longer hot to the touch. It was a hollow comfort. Loki swept out of the small room towards the throne below where the morning’s council was to be held, as always. He’d been awake all night and had missed both dinner and breakfast, but he was too anxious to sleep and doubted he could have eaten anything anyway.

 

His meetings with Asgard’s council carried well into the afternoon. He regretted having to share a meal with them – choking back tasteless stew as he fought the constant questioning of his decisions. The old scholars and warriors were stubborn. He supposed it was to be expected. He hadn’t been groomed for the throne. _The shadow was never meant to dare touch the light._

He batted the thought away and stopped in the middle of the empty hallway, realizing where he was. He’d made it halfway to the Old Man’s healing chamber, where Frigga was dutifully keeping watch over her husband, without even realizing it. He turned on his heel grumbling to himself about keeping his feelings more in check when he spotted the familiar shadows of Thor’s friends making their way down a staircase.

He ducked into a darkened corner, simultaneously casting a visual cloak over himself and pulling at the sounds of their hushed conversation, urging them to his own ears.

“We’ve no right to go-“ Volstagg was cut off by Fandral

“But we must.”

“For the good of the people of Asgard,” Sif added. Loki watched Hogun nod in agreement and fell into step behind them. He noted they all had their weapons and that Fandral walked with none of the fatigue he saw yesterday. He thought Sif had told him the blond warrior would need a few days to heal from his injury on Jotunheim.

 

Keeping up with them on horseback while remaining undetected would be impossible, he realized as he reached the stables. If he followed he’d be discovered, but if he didn’t a part of him knew they’d ruin his plans. He slipped towards the exit to the Bifrost, placing himself between them and whatever their destination was. _You know you know who they go to, second-son._  He dropped his spell and cleared his throat.

The four warriors whirled on him, weapons drawn. He’d caught them red-handed. Perfect.

“Now where do you think you all are going?” he asked slowly, meeting each of their gazes.

“On a trip,” Hogun answered. He was skilled at lying through simple truths.

“To the forests and mountains of Asgard? I think I would join you then. It has been awfully boring being cooped up in the palace all day listening to the councilmembers try to tell me how I should run my kingdom,” he said, summoning Gungnir to his side. He watched them all shift uncomfortably and held back a smirk.

“Of course you wouldn’t be going to the Bifrost. My predecessor closed it before I gained the throne and it would be of course treason against him and against me – double treason if you will – to disobey his orders...

“You weren’t thinking of doing that were you?” he asked innocently, looking up from his inspection of the spear. A fire had been born in Sif’s eyes, raging unabashedly towards him.

“Thor needs to be returned to Asgard,” Fandral said. “He is the rightful heir-“

“And I am not?” Fandral quieted as Sif stepped forward and glared.

“Permission to speak freely **my liege**?” It was a wonder she hadn’t spat at his feet.

“Permission granted, my good Lady Sif.” He let his venom drip through in the last two words.

“Several parties in Asgard see you as a usurper, a shifty opportunist with a history of carefully pulling strings to get what he wants. They believe you unworthy of the Throne.” _Unworthy, as you always are._ He felt his expression darken.

“And what do you think Sif?” he asked, barely above a whisper. The Warriors Three stood solidly behind her as she spoke.

“I think there is a traitor in the house of Odin as Laufey said there was, bent on making mischief and achieving a glory he does not and will never deserve, no matter what his past actions.” So that was it then. She, all of them with her, was throwing their history of camaraderie and adventure aside over things they had mere suspicions of.

“Then you have made your choice. You all are hereby confined to this palace for the foreseeable future. You are not to venture farther than the training grounds and are not to be let into these stables again until this decree has been lifted.” He glared at them. “Now leave my presence.”

“Loki-” He cut Volstagg off before he even started.

“Your **king** orders you to leave. NOW!” he bellowed, craking Gungnir against the tiles and sending sparks skittering across the floor. The silent guards posted among the stable walls stepped forward, ready to enforce this order if they were told. Thor’s friends’ eyes scanned the room around them. It was not a fight they would win.

Dipping into an overly formal bow, Sif glared at him and said, “Then we will see you again in the future, my liege. Our best wishes go with you.” Loki turned to one of the guards after they’d gone.

“Ensure all the einherjar in or around the palace know my orders. Fail to deliver this message and they may not be the only ones tried for treason.” The guard nodded and all but sprinted off.

Loki went to his horse’s pen and began preparing her to ride. He was interrupted by a stableman who insisted the king should not be tacking his own horse.

“Fine. Bring her outside to me when you are done. I will be waiting on the Bifrost,” he relented, leaving the pen and trekking out onto the multicolored crystal. Stepping out of earshot and direct sight of the guards posted inside the gate, Loki rubbed his temple. He could have played that better. _Foolish, stupid little monster-prince can only make enemies instead of friends._ He sighed and leaned heavily on Gungir. He’d known they were going to Thor, even if they hadn’t planned on bringing his brother back afterward. Loki had baited them into their rage. But it had been necessary, hadn’t it? He had to establish himself as firm-

 _“There is a difference between cruelty and firmness Loki.”_ Frigga’s calm voice tore through his mind. He’d been young, just beginning to master his study of magic and had been repeatedly denying Thor’s invitations to come to the practice grounds to spar. Thor had grown upset. Loki had retaliated by hurling a spell at Thor that turned his hair bright pink and made his voice squeak like a fussy rat.

Thor, of course, had gone running to their-his parents for assistance. The Old Man had sent Loki to his room without dinner when he’d refused to apologize or reverse the incantation. Frigga had come to him afterward with a handful of perfectly sweet yet tart green grapes – his weakness – and started talking to him about the difference between the two qualities.

 _“Firmness is a resolute strength of character,”_ she’d said as she sat next to him, one arm holding him gently to her side and the other offering up his favorite treats without hesitation.

 _“It is the consistent application of strength, of body or mind, against a problem.”_ She’d paused and he remembered looking up at her as he chewed, intrigued by her pensive face. _“But that application of strength is not excessive. It is not meant to destroy or chase away the problem, but bring it to a peaceful end. To lash out unnecessarily with the express purpose of bringing harm to the problem or its cause, that is cruelty. Do you understand?_ ” He remembered nodding.

He shook his head as he heard the approach of hooves, causing a faint hum as they thumped against the glass-like stone. Loki turned and mounted his horse. The stableman had even gotten the length he kept his reins at right. He managed a quick nod of thanks before rousing the mare into a gallop. There was only one destination at the end of the Bifrost. Loki Hoped Heimdall hadn’t seen too much of his recent confrontation.

 

If he had, the guardian didn’t show it. He stood passively at his post as always, his body as still as a statue and his eyes overseeing all that happened among the realms.

“Your brother fairs well on Midgard. His banishment seems to have been a wise choice,” Heimdall said, focusing his gaze on Loki. “Though I suspect that is not the reason you have graced me with your presence.”

Loki dismounted passively and strode up to the guardian. He made sure to bury is apprehension before he spoke.

“It is not, good Heimdall, though your news is greatly appreciated. What goes on in Jotunheim?”

“The Frost Giants prepare for war.”

“In what manner?”

Heimdall paused a moment as if not expecting this response. Loki didn’t know whether that was a comfort or a cause for concern. He fought the urge to begin picking at his palm in his nervous state and met the guardian’s gaze coolly.

“They prepare with the determination of King Laufey to rival Asgard’s own forces.”

“Is it Laufey’s determination or **obsession** which drives them on?”

“That, it is difficult to say.” Loki nodded and gestured toward the Bifrost.

“Then let us open the way and find out for ourselves.” Heimdall hesitated but turned and prepared to activate the pathway just the same.

Loki moved to stand before the exit, setting a spell over himself that would hide him from the Jotun’s eyes, but not from the guardian’s. He could not afford to make Heimdall an enemy.

“Keep your eyes open, Heimdall,” Loki whispered. He did not know if the guardian had heard him.


	3. Snow and Mead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So I was determined to get this chapter out before my district tournament started tomorrow (woo, yay for bowling) but it wasn't an easy one to write. I actually completely changed the direction this was going because I don't want to just stick to what happened in the movies. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Huge thanks to EVERYONE who left comments on the last two chapters. They always make me smile.

Snow had become too common a sight in recent times. The white flakes whipped around Loki, weaving around his form thanks to his magic. An invisible creature covered in dirt or dust, or indeed even snow, was still visible. He’d learned that lesson the hard way from an exceptionally rough, muddy wrestling match with his broth- with Thor. Thor the oaf. Thor the banished prince. _Thor, the heir to the throne of Asgard who is as beloved as you are hated, who would slay you where you stand for being what you are._

He shook himself free of his mind, digging his fingers into his palms either for a source of feeling in the cold or to let the pain numb is mind. He couldn't say for sure. The chill in the air didn’t bother him. He knew now why it never had. It was because of this place. Its towering glaciers – crumbling thanks to Thor’s last visit – cast gloomy shadows over near everything in sight. It did not look like a realm prepared for war.

Loki weaved his way across the snow-covered landscape, inspecting the half-assembled war machines and haphazardly stacked piles of shields and weapons. Rough clubs, he noted, seemed to be the most common of all the armaments assembled outside Jotunheim’s buildings, and armor was a rare sight to see in any crate or storage wagon. Still, the Frost Giants had thick skin and he’d seen some of them summon swords made of ice. It was difficult to say whether armor would be of use to them.

A pair of rough hide gloves worn by a Jotun attempting to corral a pack of unruly wolves was the closest thing to any kind of defensive covering he saw a Giant wear. The Jotun shut the beasts into a cramped pen and strode off toward a dark abode. Loki not surprised at the sight of the beastmaster; he was almost upon Laufey’s castle. The trip had taken roughly half a day to complete due to the caution he'd had to take. Being alone and totally surrounded by Frost Giants meant it was best not to draw attention to himself.

A cursory inspection of the wolves revealed them to be slightly underfed and all the more vicious for it. Likely the only reason they had not torn their master to pieces was that they were intimidated by him. At Loki’s approach that began barking and snarling, instinctual hunger allowing them to see past his advanced magic. He did not linger.

 

Waltzing up to the castle of Jotunheim, dropping is camouflage, and demanding an audience with Laufey king-to-king would have been a straightforward way to get the information he wanted. He never liked purely straightforward solutions, and going with that plan by himself so deep into Jotun territory could easily lead to his death. It was reckless, which was one trait Loki had always prided himself on not having. Having absolutely no sense of self-preservation was Thor’s job.

He felt a pang of loss at the memory of his brother going charging into what could have been simple negotiations – always talking best with his fists. He surprised himself with the sentiment. The shock allowed the thoughts that had been terrorizing him for the past day to surge to the surface of his mind.

_“I’ll hunt the monsters down and slay them all!” You can’t trust him, can't trust him._

_“The Jotuns must learn to fear me just as they once feared you.” He’d kill you, kill you for being what you are; Odin only didn’t because you, you were useful._

_“Know your place brother-” “Because I am the monster parents tell their children about at night!?”_ His eyes snapped open. He’d backed into a corner and was digging his nails into the wrist of an arm clutched against his chest...into the wrist of **that** arm clutched against his chest. He shouldn’t have let his mind run wild like that, but it was easier than thinking of Thor. He was not Loki’s brother. He was not, for the moment, a prince of Asgard. He wasn’t there to cast a shadow over Loki’s plans and personality.

He slipped through a gap between the palace walls. It looked to be recently opened. Finding the king of Jotunheim was a more complicated matter than getting through the wall. Laufey was not in his throne room, was not in what Loki assumed to be his private chambers, was not in his sanctuary and was not in his own small treasure vault. He was, however, in the training courtyard behind his palace, spurning his warriors on with ferocity and direct critique. He was carving out any flaws in his army.

Several dozen Jotun warriors stood on either side of the training ground. Some looked fit and apprehensive. Other’s were weary but inspired. Inspiration didn’t last forever. The loss of the source could breed chaos and uncertainty. He smiled and slid into step behind Laufey, his hand outstretched just slightly. _Do you the place I think of?_

~~~

He was several feet taller and proud, proud to be leading his warriors on this patrol. Finally, after so many years stoking his burning rage, his soldiers were a hungry for battle as he was. The trial was unfortunately quiet, as it always was. No signs of Aesir warriors were found by the frozen waterfall, eternally spiked like a savage gauntlet covering the mountainside.

~~~

Loki caught himself mid-step as Laufey abruptly halted. He’d possibly just blown his cover. The Jotun king surveyed his warriors, turning in a slow circle. Loki held his breath. He couldn’t be seen. He just had to make sure he wasn’t heard over the gusts of snowy wind from the morning storm or the crash of training blade against training blade. The fiery amber-red eyes of Jotunheim’s king met his own-

And passed on across the courtyard. He nearly sighed in relief. One more spell and he could leave this wretched place, warm his bones with a tall glass of Vanir honey mead and perhaps sit down with one of Odin’s expositions on advanced rune magic. The former was more likely than the latter. It would be late by the time he made it back to the palace.

The suggestion he left Laufey was simple and powerful, set to be enacted in three day’s time. By then he would have enough of Asgard’s affairs in order to see to his own. He slipped back out of the courtyard, out of the palace, out of the realm of Frost Giants who were none the wiser to his brief presence there. Heimdall said nothing when Loki returned to the observatory. That was fine. He didn’t need the guardian’s opinions at the moment. As long as he was kept informed Loki expected him to remain loyal.

 

The king of Asgard couldn’t be seen drinking his problems away in some random pub after disappearing for a full day, so Loki snatched up two bottles of fine Vanir mead from the palace stores and settled down in a quiet feast room. It was the same one that only two days before Thor had wreaked havoc on. Loki could still barely believe the crown prince had thrown a temper tantrum over not being crowned. That had only solidified Loki’s belief that the God of Thunder wasn’t ready to be king. He still acted like a child.

He pulled a goblet off the table that no longer stood evenly on its legs and poured himself a sample from the first bottle. It had a layer of spice blended in with the sweetness. Hogun would have liked it. Loki did not. He sampled the second bottle and found it more to his liking: sweet with just a hint of the bitterness associated with a wheat base. Sif would have liked it too, Fandral even more so. Someone coughed behind him. Loki spun, pulling out a dagger with his free hand.

“Whoa, it’s just me,” Volstagg said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I was going to leave when you came in, but-” He gestured to the bottles of mead. “If you would like someone to drink with I’d be happy to oblige.” Loki furrowed his brows.

“You only want to stay because you can’t access the palace stores to get these on your own.”

“Partly, yes. But it also does no one good to drink alone.” He smiled. It was the same smile he’d seen Odin offer to Thor. _But never to you._ He was tempted to drain his goblet instead of answering.

Loki remembered Volstagg giving that same smile to his wife and daughter. They were a family, a family that could not be together because of Loki’s orders. Yet here Volstagg stood, kindly offering up his companionship for the evening. He should have sent the ginger warrior away, but Loki missed the companionship he had shared with Thor’s friends, especially since it had been absent of late. Besides, Volstagg’s unending patience had a way of wearing people down. Maybe the mead was making him complacent. Loki handed him the bottle of the spicier brew.

“You continue to circumvent the brash reputation of your ancestors, Firesoul,” Loki said, taking a sip of his own drink. Volstagg’s smile was bittersweet. He tasted his own drink before answering.

“A heritage does not define one’s character, Silvertongue. My forefathers may be berserkers but I prefer the noble adventurer’s life. Their roles do not define my own duties.” Loki swallowed, the burning sensation in his throat having nothing to do with the strength of the drink in his hand. Volstagg had no idea how close to home his words had hit. Perhaps he did. The warrior immediately noticed Loki’s stiffness.

“I don’t mean to bring up family. That Allfather’s untimely fall into Odinsleep is a concern for us all, not that I call into question the capabilities of your majesty,” he added quickly. Loki waved his hesitancy away. He needed to manage his reactions better.

“You do not need to maintain formality Volstagg. Your civil manner has already erased most doubts I had about your intentions at the moment. Your actions yesterday, however…” Volstagg nodded apologetically.

“I apologize for my involvement in that affair, and for the little effort I put into stopping it.” He hesitated, but Loki’s stare compelled him to keep speaking. “But I must ask how Thor fares in his banishment.”

Loki nearly sighed in relief. He’d been expecting Volstagg to voice suspicion about how he’d come to the throne or where he’d been for the past day. The absence of the king, even the acting king, in the palace would have been a topic ripe for gossip. _That doesn’t mean he has no reservations about you. He may take anything you tell him straight to the oaf’s other conniving little friends._ He shook the thought away and drained the rest of his goblet. There was no harm in telling Volstagg what Heimdall had said. It may even help his case.

“Our watchful guardian tells me Thor’s banishment was an appropriate action. It should at the very least make him think about the actions he took, not that he was ever very good at thinking. Always rushing headlong into certain death screaming righteous fury…” He paused. That had been harsher than he’d meant. It had escaped him how strong Vanir mead could be. Volstagg, however, broke into hearty laughter at his words.

“That is true my friend,” he chuckled, swiping at an eye. “Your brother was never one for plans, no matter how necessary or well thought out they were.”

Loki tried not to bristle at his words, doing his best to find the humor in them. He only found memories that provided more evidence as to why Thor should never have come so close to being king in the first place. Volstagg clapped him on the back – nearly making him flinch at the touch – and headed out of the room, saying something about tracking down Fandral and Hogun and reminding them of the story of some battle or another.

It wasn’t until after his boisterous voice had left the hall, leaving it in silence, that Loki headed up to Odin’s library - his library. A good book had always set his mind at ease and there had been several interesting ones going over types of magic he had only heard cursory mentions of in his years before.

 

He decided after picking out a tome that he couldn’t stay in the library second night. Whether it was the room’s atmosphere, the things he’d said to Volstagg or the bottle of mead – which he still carried at his side – he didn’t know. Loki simply knew the hidden study unnerved him.

He stopped a servant on the way to his chambers, telling her to put a word in with the palace’s smiths and tailors about a new set of armor, something he’d been meaning to discuss with the craftsman since the previous morning. His princely ensemble did not suit a king, and it could not have been worn during the trip like the one he’d taken to Jotunheim. Something more to his own tastes and styles, rather than The Old Man’s, would be a much better fit.

A sigh fell from his lips as soon as the doors to his rooms were shut behind him. He would be able to study, maybe even sleep, better here than anywhere else in the castle. He supposed the library was an exception; in the past he’d often spent days at a time hidden away in one of the studies, pouring over scrolls and books until he’d finally left in search of food. He could at the very least relax in his own chambers. His strength would be necessary for the task he had planned for the next morning.

He was going to visit Odin.


	4. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So I got so excited about this chapter that I just had to post it. I know its quite a long one (and there are some tiny formatting issues I'm trying to hunt down an fix), but I hope you like it nonetheless. Please let me know what you think in the comments or if you have any questions. I love hearing from you all. In addition, I may be looking for an additional beta in the future so if any of you are interested let me know and I'll keep you posted! Enjoy!!!

The Queen of Asgard, barring some important event, always spent the early hours of the morning tending to her garden. It was a small part of the large palace, but Frigga seemed to fond of everything from the lazy grapevines drooped over the outer wall to the wide-reaching pear trees clustered in the center of the green sanctuary. Since the Old Man had fallen into Odinsleep, she’d spent less time tending to her plants, leaving more of the tasks to the servants who were happy to assist the queen.

Loki knew he wouldn’t have much time alone in the Old Man’s healing room when he left his chambers that morning. The mead had let him sleep, some, but it had been a fitful night. He'd woken up so angry and agitated that he’d flung the bottle across the room, causing it to shatter brilliantly against the tall stone wall across from his bed. It didn’t really matter. He told himself a few wakeful nights wouldn’t be a problem.

What was distracting was the splitting headache he’d  been greeted with the moment he’d looked into the bright early daylight. Even in the dimmer palace halls, he walked with his hand shading his view, fingers pressing into his temples trying to will the obnoxious pain away. His hand dropped to his side when he neared the Old Man’s healing room. He didn't need anyone questioning his health. He was fine. He tipped Gungnir towards the guards and they nodded in greeting, opening the doors for him to pass.

Inside it was quiet. The silence hung heavy in the air like an oppressive blanket. Every breath or shift in his armor seemed amplified a hundred times over. For his part, Odin was as still as the room. Loki did his best not to wrinkle his nose as he strode over to the bed, leaving Gungnir to stand by the door.  He wouldn’t have to stay long, he told himself. He would get the information he came for, cast the spell he’d prepared and be gone. He placed his hand on Odin’s forehead, question ready in his mind. _Who was Rinda?_

~~~

The sun blazed overhead.  Loki was grateful he wasn’t actually present; his headache would have been skull-splitting.  Laughter echoed through the hedges of the palace gardens, several feet shorter than the ones he was familiar with. A pair of children were seated on either side of one of the less bushy sections. One was a boy with messy dirty-blonde hair and a ruddy complexion. The other was a girl withfamiliar dark hair and emerald eyes.

 

_“_ _No you dolt that’s not how the rhyme goes. I’ve told you. Try to remember!”_ Rinda giggled, pushing aside the leaves of the hedge to look at the boy more  closely. His face scrunched up in concentration.

_“Okay okay, I’m trying. It’s just  a stupid bird poem… It goes… One for sorrow. Two for mirth. Three for a wedding and Four for a birth. Five for silver. Six for gold, and…”_ He trailed off and frowned.

_“And seven for a secret never_ _to be told_. _If you can’t even remember how to count birds you are dumber than a_ bilgesnipe _.”_ The boy threw a pebble at her in response. She dodged and started sprinting away into the maze. The boy dove straight through the hedge after her, leaving a large hole in his wake. He turned a corner after the girl and skidded to a halt before a tall imposing figure. _Bor._

_“Father! I-We were coming to the library right after we finished our game-”_

_“Enough Odin.”_ Loki blinked in surprise. **That** was the Old Man? _“_ You _were supposed_ to _begin your lesson an hour ago. Now you will have to recite to Mimir the six most crucial weaknesses of Dark Elf fighter ships while you prepare for you sparring match today _ . _ As for Rinda, she  was supposed  to have been present for her championship match first thing this morning."_  Bor looked down to where Rinda stood at his side. Loki noticed she was taller than Odin, older.

_“Due to her absence, the House of Ruthen has suffered an embarrassing defeat.”_ Odin opened his mouth, but Rinda spoke first.

_“My absence is no fault but my own, your majesty. I will return to my father with haste and make up for my folly.”_ She bowed and left the pair, the rest of the scene fading with her.

   

When Loki opened his eyes again he was standing on Alfheim, in the midst of a rare kind of storm that had actually managed to block out the powerful sun. He was again grateful he wasn’t actually present.  Hail instead of rain fell like frozen bullets from the sky, reflecting the flashes of lightning and pale green fire that served as the only light sources in the area.

Rinda stood in the center of the circle of off-colored flames, staring up at a monstrous lindworm Odin was rushing . The beast reared back and belched a spout of fire at the future king. It weaved around him and into the circle around Rinda.

She flicked her wrist and three of her own tongues of fire shot toward. Two lashed whip-like across the lizard's face. The third coated Odin’s blade as he surged forward.

He drove the sword into the beast’s chest, causing it to snarl in pain. Rinda  took advantage of  its empty maw and three her circle of fire forward. She roasted the lizard from the inside out.

_“You never cease  __to amaze, though I do think sending a giant ax through its skull would have been more interesting,”_ Odin said, kicking at the smoking corpse  . Rinda sighed, running a hand through her wet hair.  The fire around her had melted the hail into regular rain, but now that the blaze was gone chunks of frozen ice bounced off her armor. She pulled up a hood to cover her head.

_“I’m an elemental sorceress, Odin. I’m not a conjurer and I’m certainly  not a battlemage. This adventure of yours was a stretch of my powers as it is,”_ she said. Odin smirked. It was a disquieting thing to see him do

_“But you always have my back._ ” Rinda didn’t answer.

 

He again saw the younger version of Odin - a much less perturbing visage than Odin as a boy - standing before a mirrored dresser in what Loki assumed to be his chambers. He was holding a small wooden bracelet in his hand, staring  intently  at it as he traced the wood with his finger. Upon closer inspection, Loki saw that Odin was carving runes into the wood. Each one disappeared the instant after it had  been drawn. Loki recognized them from the book he’d been reading the previous night. They were the pieces of a powerful love spell.

Loki  was infuriated by  the fact that he couldn’t reel back in disgust at the sight.  Instead, he shared the Old Man’s feeling of being **clever** , of being happy that something he had sought after for so long would finally be his. Odin pushed five bird feathers to the side of the dresser and set the trinket down.

Rinda stepped in. She  was dressed  in a fine dark gown with silver accents. It was attire one wore for a royal ball. It suited her. She seemed uneasy, fiddling with the bracelets on her arm and avoiding Odin’s gaze.

_“Rinda,”_ Odin greeted  warmly . She dipped her head in response. Odin beckoned her over to the dresser. She hesitated, glancing at the guard still holding the door open for her, before going over to Odin.

_“I wanted to apologize for my brashness earlier. I hoped this gift would make up for it,”_ he said, picking up the bracelet. _“I’ve enchanted it to smell like the lovely pine structures of your family’s hall. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have lost them. My father has said the Dark Elves will pay for their attack on such a noble Aesir family.”_ Rinda nodded, looking sad and distracted, and allowed Odin to slip the bracelet around her wrist.

Loki wanted to tear himself from the vision right then. But he couldn’t. He  was forced  to watch as his mother’s gaze clouded over and a dazed smile formed on her face. She looked to Odin and batted her eyelashes - an action that seemed alien for her - as she pulled him towards the door. Odin did not hide his wolfish grin.

_“I suppose this means you wish to accompany  me to the feast tonight after all?”_ he asked. Rinda’s only answer was a giggle that made Loki’s stomach twist. The slam of the door behind them made one of the bird feathers flutter off the dresser and onto the floor.

~~~

After that sight, Loki did manage to tear himself free from Odin’s memories. He stumbled backward into the wall, gasping for breath. Odin manipulated her. He’d used her to mother a powerful heir to his throne. Loki was almost glad about how  badly  it had backfired on the former king.

He steeled his nerves and pushed himself off the wall. He still had one question left to ask. One question. Then he could send the Old Man into the most horrible sleep of his life. He stretched out his hand again. _How did Rinda end up on Jotunheim?_

~~~

Odin was walking to his chambers.  The golden halls around him seemed to shine less despite the sconces lining the walls burning as bright as ever. That was when it hit him. Like a wave breaking over the shore, Loki  suddenly  felt all Odin’s guilt and shame wash over his mind.  The Old Man had  just  locked away Hela,  just  to come to terms with the fact that his all-powerful warrior daughter  was indeed  too powerful for him to control and too much of a warrior to ever consider being something else.  He’d been happy expanding their lands with her, happy bringing riches and glory to a people who had fallen so low in the centuries after the bittersweet victory against the Dark Elves. He’d thought Hela would have made a good queen. He was wrong.

Odin dragged the doors to his chambers open. Rinda had not come out since he’d told her about his plan to banish their daughter, to imprison her for the rest of his days.  His queen had helped prepare the spellwork, of course, but as soon as her task had  been completed  she disappeared into their chambers weeping for her lost child.

The room was empty now. Books had been flung from the shelves lining the walls. Loki recognized some of them as the ones that now sat in his forbidden library. The sheets had  been torn  off the bed and strewn in shredded pieces across the floor.

In the bathroom, a large circle drawn in blood and filled with intricate runework reflected the moonlight streaming through the window. The blood was still fresh.  In the center of the circle sat the two halves of Odin’s carved wooden bracelet, the layers of runes in them all charred and powerless. Loki saw the shadows of seven pairs of wings dance over the broken trinket.

 

Loki immediately recognized the familiar hollow chill of the halls of Laufey’s castle.  Odin had managed, with extreme difficulty, to secure an audience with Jotunheim’s new king in the hopes of ending the heightening war between them.  He  was escorted by  a group of his most skilled einherjar and four towering Frost Giants that seemed none too pleased with the Aesir present among them.

Odin, and by extension Loki, thought it was a trick of the eye when he first saw it,  just  a glimpse between two of the massive sheets of opaque ice making up the walls.  Yet between them, through the thin slivers that allowed one a glimpse of the landscape outside, Odin saw it, saw **her**. He stopped.

The einherjar froze, fearing their king sensed danger, and the Frost Giants turned their heads in irritation. Odin stepped up to one of the gaps - small to a Frost Giant but large enough that he could put his head through.

Loki could see what the Allfather was looking at now.  A woman, dressed in heavy layers of silver-white furs, was strolling along the edge of the courtyard, staring now at the valley below. She was no Frost Giant.  Odin recognized her by her pale skin and emerald green eyes that sparkled with intensity even from this distance.

_“Oi!”_ one of the Jotuns bellowed, stomping towards Odin.  The einherjar intercepted him, and the two groups took up tense stances as they stared each other down. Odin ignored them.  The woman,  however , turned at the noise, letting her gaze travel up the castle, past the heavy stone doors she had come through for a moment outside, past the four eagles perched among the banisters watching her every move. Her gaze met Odin’s.

Loki felt the Allfather’s chest swell with a warmth that faded as he took stock of the woman far below him. The softness was gone from her face.  Her skin looked ashen despite the cold that should be making it flush pink, and her cheekbones seemed razor-sharp between the hollows of her eyes and cheeks.

She stared up at Odin, compassionless, and shifted her position. The bulky furs that had  been wrapped  around her slid off her forearms as she came to rest them on her stomach. It was larger, growing with a child that Odin knew was not his own. When Odin met her gaze again, a cruel smirk had set itself onto her lips. 

~~~

For some time after he’d left the memories, Loki could do nothing but stare at the wall and fight back the lump in his throat. Rinda had broken free from his control and ventured out to do something for herself, but the expression she’d shown Odin on Jotunheim... It was a promise of revenge. _She never cared about having you. She only did it to get back at him._ That knowledge pierced deep into Loki’s soul in a way none of the other revelations about his mother had.

His rage at Odin quelled by the sudden emptiness, Loki leaned over the Old Man and began casting the spell he’d prepared. It had taken a few modifications to get it to be powerful enough to keep up Odin’s sleep without letting him waste away. That fate was too good for the former king. Loki had also needed to make sure Frigga would never be able to detect the magic. He wouldn’t have been able to stand her disappointment if she did.

The final words spoken and all physical signs of the magic sunken into Odin’s form, Loki picked up Gungnir and swept out of the room, burying his feelings as he let his mind work.  He still needed to meet with the royal council before they adjourned for the day and stop by the craftsmen’s quarters so that he could discuss with them the designs for his new armor. He was itching to be rid of his old set forever. Frigga was standing so still on the other side of the door that he almost ran into her as he came through.

He misstepped, froze, and finally assembled a nonchalant stance, far too  slowly  for his liking. Frigga did not seem convinced. She pursed her lips as she looked him over. There was still dirt under her nails and bits of moss in her hair. Loki recalled she made an effort of removing the dead patches as the base of the trees to allow new areas to grow.

“It is good to see you this morning my son,” she greeted. He balked at her casual nature and warm smile. His tongue faltered for a moment as he looked for a response.

“Good morning, mother. I am sorry I have seen so little of you in the past few days,” he said, finding the strength to return her warm smile.

“No you are not,” she responded, her mouth hardening into a thin line.  “You know my day-to-day habits and have  surely  already picked up on my slight change in schedule due to your father’s predicament.” He fought not to cringe at her words.  “Your avoidance of me has been  entirely  your own doing, and I would wish I had some idea of why you felt it necessary to distance yourself from me.”

“I... Well due to-”

“Save it. I do not need to hear your excuses.” Her gaze softened. “I only wish to speak with you Loki, to lift you with some of your burdens if I can.  Perhaps  we can meet for tea as we used to? This afternoon, even?” She saw him hesitate. Her smile returned to her and she stepped forward.

“Then we will make it tomorrow,” she said, placing a gentle hand on his arm, “and I promise the same rules as then will apply now.  You may say what you wish, even if that is nothing at all, and I can assure you none of what you voice will find its way to the ears of your brother or father or anyone else in the castle. I hope I will see you again soon.”

She stepped past him without another word - leaving no room for any argument - and shut herself into Odin’s healing chamber. Loki  was left  staring after her. He shook himself. He had things to do. He could deal with the stubborn queen later.  The most important item on his list was putting in the proposition with the council about what should  be done  with Thor’s friends. Leaving them cooped up in the castle wasn’t a long-lasting solution, for Sif especially.  He stopped the first unoccupied servant he saw and had him send word to the bold shieldmaiden that king...requested an audience with her late the next morning.  By then the council would have made its decision about the others and she would likely be calm enough to face him again.

 

The meeting with the members of Asgard's court went more  swiftly  than planned. The long discussion his proposals had started lasted only until the early afternoon. He’d expected the talk to run well into the night.  That left him ample time to visit his favorite craftsmen Davlin, Alfregg, Durling, and Greirr, the sons of House Ivaldi and some of the best artisans in the nine realms.

They seemed excited by the task of creating a new set of armor for the king, but to spark their interest even further Loki challenged them to make gifts for Heimdall and each of Thor’s friends as well.  They enjoyed crafting garments, but it was in tools and trinkets that their skills  truly  shined.  Loki figured it would also assist with his attempts to more  permanently  win some of the others' loyalty, if not their trust.  His list of tasks completed for the day, Loki stopped by the kitchens to pick up a meal and prepared to stow himself away in his hidden sanctuary for another sleepless night.

 

One step into the room his sedated and buried rage returned to him. The very air in the small chamber, stuffy and muddled with the hints of rune magic, set his nerves on edge. He was later glad he’d left Gungnir in his quarters on his way up to the library. Its absence helped mitigate the damage that followed.

Loki set his dinner down on a side table by the door and walked into the center of the room. Bookshelves packed tight with tomes lined two of the walls.  A third  was occupied by  tall containers for scrolls and an ornate desk and chair made from yew - the Old Man’s favorite kind of timber - set underneath a tapestry of the palace.  The fourth wall was much less cluttered, its space filled only with a small couch and two carved figures set flush against the wall: Odin and Bor.

Odin’s statue was the only one he’d intended to destroy at first, but after hurling it across the room at the desk and not seeing the wood even crack under the weight and force, Bor’s visage followed  swiftly  after his son’s. The desk was still intact.  It reminded him too much of the dresser where Odin had laid the ornament that had ensnared his mother against her will.

_He used her, bewitched her, drove her away. But she, she didn't care for you. She only wanted vengeance on him. Look, look at yourself monster prince. You're a tool, a relic, a weapon to be used  against whoever holds your leash._

When he lashed out again, he did so with his strength and his magic, exploding the glorified table in a shower of splintered wood. The tapestry he wrenched off the wall - sheering the cloth free of the metal rods - and burned in his hands. The  newly  freed poles, his own makeshift javelins, he hurled into the sofa. The crunch they’d made cracking through the back of the furniture wasn’t satisfying enough.

 

Over time, his vision blurred to fuzzy shapes of the room around him as he rampaged against Odin’s belongings. Trinkets shattered. Furniture split. The voice in his head never ceased its taunting. By the end of it, all Loki found himself out of breath and sat back against the door. Remnants of what may have been a flower vase or a fruit bowl lay around him. He didn’t realize until he touched his face that his vision had blurred because he’d been crying.

He pulled himself to his feet.  He returned any fallen books or scrolls to their places, glad that even in his fury he had known better than to directs his attacks at the precious information the room held. Then he left, cloaking himself from sight and wandering back down to his room.  He dropped onto the bed with an exhausted and frustrated sigh, glad to at least get some decent sleep in return for all his turmoil.


	5. Progression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So this is kind of an in-between chapter, but I hope it’s interesting nonetheless! Please let me know what you think in the comments!

He regretted setting his audience with Sif any time before noon. He woke late. Every part of him felt so heavy, both with his exhaustion and with his guilt over the childish tantrum he’d thrown the previous night. Thor was usually the one to lose his head in some bombastic and infantile manner. Loki felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward. His brother…

 _Not your brother. Not your friend. Your enemy, your future murderer if you aren’t careful._ He shot up in his bed, pressing his fingers into his eyes and willing his thoughts to quiet down. He sat, hunched, for several minutes listening to the world around him: the trill of the early spring birds outside, the hum of ships passing below his balcony, the light breeze shifting the curtains around his bed. He was fine. He was **fine** . He could do this. He **needed** to do this.

Sif had to be occupied. Otherwise she would stoke the fires of her rage, breeding dissent and distrust in his kingdom. If she thought herself responsible an important task - even one he assigned to her - the shieldmaiden would at the very least devote much of her time to it. He dressed in his royal armor, stowing his newly repaired outfit from Jotunheim in a pocket dimension for later, and swept out into the hall. Gungnir hummed in his grip.

 

The throne room was empty when he arrived. The council had adjourned for the morning; evidently there hadn’t been much on the docket. He settled himself into the golden chair. The cold metal still felt alien to him, still felt off. _You know this throne was never meant to be yours. You know it. It knows it. EVERYONE KNOWS IT YOU-_ Sif spared him from hearing more. He stood as she entered. She bowed stiffly and met his gaze with cold, sharp eyes.

“Good morning, fair lady Sif,” he said.

“What purpose did you summon me here for?” Direct as ever. Good. “I did not think you were brave enough to see me again so soon after our last encounter.” He smiled at that, stepping down to meet her.

“My purpose you shall find out soon enough. Follow me.” He turned and his heel and left the room.

He did not check to see if she was following. He heard the metallic clank of her boots marching in step with him. All the way down to the training grounds - cleared as per his request - she said nothing. He didn’t expect her to. He planted Gungnir just outside one of the sparring arenas and stepped into the dirt circle. His armor from Jotunheim shifted over his form as he turned.

“Fight me,” he challenged.

“What?” Sif asked. Her eyes were wide with surprise and her mouth hardened into a thin line

“Fight me. Hand to hand combat, though keep your sword at the ready. Standard sparring rules apply. The first one who yields loses.” She still needed motivation. “Will you give up so easily against your king?”

She stepped into the circle, the fire behind her eyes lit once again.

His blows were rapid and grouped. Hers were lonely but solid. Each one hit with just as much force as the last, but Loki welcomed the pain. It was nice to fight, to focus on the battle and let his mind go completely quiet for the first time in days.

He ducked around her blow and drove his elbow into her nose. She reeled, but caught his next blow and sent her knee into his stomach. _Shit._

He stumbled backward, deciding it was time to raise the stakes. Knives appeared in his hands. The polished metal glinted in the sunlight, allowing her to evade his first blows and draw her sword. He spun and sent both weapons flying as Sif pulled out her shield.

His daggers bounced, one after the other, off her as he stepped closer. He dived forward as she lowered her shield. He landed on one arm and with a swift kick had knocked her legs out from under her. She swung at him as she fell.

Loki rolled and scrambled to his feet. Sif was already rising. His fingers closed around Gungnir as she rushed him. Their weapons met with a loud clang that echoed off the walls.

“Well, you’ve certainly lost none of your touch,” he said. They were both breathless from the fight, but he could tell she was excited as he.

“Nor you yours,” Sif answered, smiling for the first time that morning. Loki grinned back.

“Let’s see how you handle this,” he said and twisted the spear in his hands.

Her sword fell to the side as he slipped past her. He danced away from another blow from her shield and came in at her back. She was ready for him.

Their weapons met, again and again, crashing together in the still air. Where he stepped she met him. Where he landed a blow she hit back, both their wounds healing in seconds. She was undoubtedly the most skilled combatant he’d ever faced - aside from his mother. She lived and breathed and embodied battle.

Every moment was perfectly precise and yet done with the ease of a river flowing downhill. It didn’t take long for her to disarm him. He fell flat on his back in the dirt, her sword pointed at his throat.

“I yield,” he croaked, holding his hands up to show his surrender was true. Sif paused, then withdrew her weapon and stepped back.

He pulled himself to his feet and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The battle had worn him out more than he’d expected. His few fitful hours of sleep and lack of much real food had weakened him, but the activity did nothing to make his appetite return. He shook his head, brushing what dirt he could from his clothes and recovering Gungnir from where it had fallen.

“Sif,” he began, finally catching his breath, “today you’ve shown you are able to best even your king in a test of combat. For that reason…” He paused, throwing any of his remaining doubts from his mind. “I have decided to name you the new commander of the Einherjar. Your skill in battle is unmatched, and I am sure you will teach all of Asgard’s soldiers how to be better prepared for war.”

Sif stared wide-eyed at him until she remembered herself, bowing and saying, “I thank you, my liege, for this golden opportunity. It has been too long since a woman has led a group of warriors. I will not let my leadership be a reason to sympathize with that history.” He nodded, appreciating her understanding and formality. There was no reason for him to voice that appreciation though, and she'd earned a few ribbings given her comments about him the other day.

“You do not need to be so grandiose, Sif. It is unbecoming of you, and besides, that is my job.” He smirked, but let his face fall after a moment of silence.

“Do you still think me a traitor in the house of Odin?” he asked. She furrowed her brows and tilted her head to the side as she thought. Finally, she looked back to him.

“I do not think you are a traitor, but I do still believe you are up to something. Until I know what that is or can be assured of your good-intentions I do not trust you.” He let out a small chuckle and nodded.

 _Given my history, will you ever?_ he asked himself, but he did not voice his thoughts. Sif’s allegiance would be tenuous at best until he could actually prove himself capable. The last thing he needed to do was put doubts in her mind, so he left.

He hoped Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg would accept their new duties as Sif did. He had little doubts about Volstagg; it would be nice to talk regularly with him again. The easygoing warrior would slot just as well into the position Loki had chosen for him as Sif had fit into hers. It was Hogun and Fandral that might be harder to convince.

His mind slowed as he found himself back in his chambers. He stepped inside to clean the dirt and sweat from his body before his afternoon meeting with the council to hear their responses to his propositions. He would also need to inform them his choice for the new commander of Asgard’s army had accepted the position. They would ensure the Einherjar were informed of Sif’s wishes in the future.

Despite the doubts still lingering in his mind about her loyalty and her trust, Loki knew he’d made the right choice. Sif was capable, driven, and she would likely whip Asgard’s army into a formidable force. Hopefully, it would be enough to face Hela and Thanos when the day came. He prayed the occasions were still a long ways off.

The news the council gave him was good. They’d approved, if somewhat reluctantly, of all his decisions. They would all be taken care of at the meeting tomorrow if he could be in attendance. Loki assured them he would. The event seemed so far away given all that he had planned for the next several hours. His first and most important task was his meeting with Frigga. He could not avoid her. She’d only come looking for him. It was best, he knew, to face her on at least some of his own terms rather than when she was tired and frustrated and done dealing with his nonsense. She’d want real answers by that point.

He paused outside the doors to her study and knocked. It had been over two centuries since his last visit. He’d been preparing for his final examination over his abjuration magic when Thor had arrived begging for help. They went chasing after Thor’s horse like a pair of rabid wolves and ended up on Alfheim. That was the first realm portal he had encountered.

The two of them had ended up fighting a particularly nasty bilgesnipe and had returned battered but victorious only to be scorned by both Odin and Frigga. His thoughts darkened as Loki remembered the last time he had seen Odin and Alfheim. It did not help his mood that his mother opened the door at that very moment.

“Loki,” she said, raising her eyebrows as she opened the door, “please come in. I’ve already made the tea.”

He forced himself to walk past her. Little had changed. A round table with four thick plush chairs still sat in the middle of the room. Books still lined the shelves built into the tall walls. The mesh curtains still were closed to the balcony outside. The warm fire he’d spent so many nights in front of still burned... He took a seat in one of the chairs with his back to the door, to Frigga.

“You must forgive my surprise. I did not think you would come,” she said.

 _I didn’t plan to, but it was easier than having you hunt me down_ , he thought. Frigga took the seat across from him and stirred her tea. He wasn’t going to say anything, not anything pertaining to himself or his activities of late. He was simply going to show that he was fine, that she didn’t need to fret over him like a worried vulture, and then be on his way.

“Did you know I was Jotun?” The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them. _Foolish. Weak._ Frigga paused from where she’d been pouring him a cup of tea. She swallowed and slid him the cup as she started scratching at her palm. She didn’t look at him.

“I knew. I knew and I never cared that I knew. I only cared that I couldn’t tell you, but your father forbade it and-”

“So you just blindly followed his orders?” Loki hissed. Frigga’s eyes met his own as she scowled.

“If I were following his orders would I be telling you now?” Her gaze softened. “He did it to spare you the pain of feeling different, of thinking you didn’t belong.”

“I didn’t belong. I don’t, not to him.” _And I always felt different._

“But to me?” Loki couldn’t answer that, so he tasted his tea. It was made just the way he liked it. _That doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean she cares._ Frigga sighed.

“I had no idea you’d found out. I knew something was bothering you but I couldn’t imagine it would be this. Loki, listen to me. This will probably sound like a weak excuse but I hope someday you may understand. We kept secrets from you, but we never did it out of spite. We wanted our sons to believe they each had an equal part in this family.”

 _As equal as our sister’s part?_ He almost asked. Instead, he clenched his jaw and stared down at his drink. _She still lied to you, still kept the truth to herself because_ **_he_ ** _said to, because_ **_he_ ** _believed he knew what was best for you._

Loki said nothing else. He sat hunched around his cup as Frigga watched him and finished his tea at a pace just slow enough that she wouldn’t ask him to stay longer. He then stood and stalked out of the room. He never met her searching gaze. He feared if he did he would tell her too much, accuse her of too much. She bade him farewell as he opened the doors to leave. He did not return the goodbye.

 

Instead, he hid away in his rooms, paging through the book on rune magic he had taken from his library. He would need another soon, but even thinking of the destroyed room made his stomach twist. When a servant came to bring him dinner he thanked the man stiffly and gave him a note to deliver to the Ivaldi brothers in the hopes of learning the status of the projects he’d commissioned.

An answer was brought back to him several hours later with the woman that came to collect the dishes from his meal. His works were underway but would take some time to complete. He thanked the servant and sent her away with empty trays. He’d hardly touched his food, just made it vanish from the dishes so no one would ask after his health. He was fine.

The rest of the night he spent reading through the book and preparing for what would come at dawn. It was difficult to focus. His head wouldn’t shut up long enough for him to read a full sentence before it starting swirling with thoughts again. They were mostly insults and doubts and flashes of the memories he’d taken from Odin the day before. All of them stung like raindrops in a vicious storm, appearing only a second before they struck and collectively weighing him down and chilling him to his bones.

 

At dawn, he slipped out of his chambers to a secluded corner of the castle: an ancient bridge leading up to a side entrance to the palace gardens. The stonework, moss-covered from years of disuse, build right up to the natural cliffs under the castle and was always shrouded in shadow. It was a fitting place for the passage to Jotunheim - well, one of the passages. Loki knew Laufey would be arriving any moment to meet his fate.


	6. Fealties and Facades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So we're actually getting towards the middle/end of the first arc of this story - the Thor arc. Loki's having to face some issues here and his reactions are a little complicated. If you have any questions/feedback please let me know what you think in the comments! Enjoy!!!

When the Jotun king stepped into Asgard, Loki was ready for him. Hidden along the rock wall, he stepped forward to place his hand on Laufey’s arm. Loki already knew the war-mongering tyrant’s fate, but he had one more question to ask before his death. _What happened to Rinda?_

~~~

The room was lit by torches burning with cold blue fire. Rinda stood at Laufey’s side, both of them staring down at something wrapped in furs on the icy table before them. Loki realized it was his infant self, sleeping as his parents inspected him.

 _“He is too small to survive. The frosts will kill him,”_ Laufey rumbled. He scowled down at the baby with his arms crossed, and Loki could feel every bit of his disappointment. It made his own chest heavy.

 _“Oh quiet. He will survive. He has your blood as well as mine,”_ Rinda said, frowning up at Laufey before turning back to him, her son. _“When he is greeted by the warm touch of the Aesir or of Asgard itself he will change. He'll blend in perfectly with them, just as I can. He’s a natural shapeshifter, and has all my magic and your kind’s abilities as well.”_

Loki felt Laufey bristle at her ‘your kind’ phrasing, deepening his distrust of the woman and her child. Laufey thought he should have sent her away when he had the chance, should never have allowed her guest rights and to strike the bargain she’d tempted him with afterward-

The castle shook. One of the torches fell and was extinguished as it hit the ground. Asgard had arrived. Loki felt Laufey’s brutal eagerness at the battle, the battle he had not told Rinda would be happening. Laufey in that moment he came up with a plan to be rid of them both.

 _“Take the child and go! To high balcony beyond the treasure room!”_ he bellowed, all but throwing Loki into Rinda’s arms with one hand. With the other, he grabbed his sword.

Rinda hesitated, Loki’s infant self waking and beginning to cry at the ruckus outside. She shushed him, pulling the furs more snugly around his small body and bouncing him gently in her arms. She gave Laufey one last worried look before she fled up the stairs, up to her death. Laufey smirked as she disappeared. He didn’t care what that witch had said. Neither she nor the boy would survive Jotunheim’s wrath.

~~~

With one swift motion, Laufey swung his arm forward and sent Loki sprawling. He twisted midair, causing his head and neck to crack against the ancient stones. Stars swam across his vision. The Jotun monarch loomed over him, sneering.

“You should have planned, better, traitorous prince. Oh yes, I know it was you who let my people into Asgard, only to be slaughtered like pigs,” he growled. “But no matter. With you dead and this passage revealed to me. I will make short work of the Allfather as you promised me. Then I will lay waste to the rest of Asgard.” Laufey summoned a dagger of ice. Gungnir hummed more fiercely in his hand.

He forced the weapon up, clean through Laufey’s chest. The king gasped. Loki smirked and let the brute suffer for a moment. Then he ripped the spearhead out of his birth father's chest. The soon-to-be former king fell face-first to the ground. Loki rolled away to avoid being crushed. He stood as Laufey turned to face him.

“You should have kept my mother better protected,” he whispered. Laufey’s crimson eyes flared open as Gungir’s bolt tore through his physical form. Only a few smoldering ashes were left in his wake. Loki thought he’d feel proud of his victory. Killing Laufey, and therefore bringing justice to bear against his birth father and Asgard’s foe, should have ended some of his uncertainties.

Instead, he fell to his knees and retched over the side of the walkway. Gungnir was forgotten on the stones behind him. Nothing but bile came up from his empty stomach, and exhaustion clouded his mind. He slumped on the edge of the bridge; the fight and the magic he’d used against Laufey had sapped what focus he’d had left. How long had it been since he threw up after killing an opponent? Centuries, at least.

 _Pathetic, reverting to a boy’s reaction to ending a foe. No one could be weaker. The wimpy monster-prince, most unloved of all of Asgard._ He moaned and rolled onto his back. Slinging a heavy arm over his eyes, he willed his thoughts to halt. For once, they did, and he then thought of Rinda. She had loved him, or at least seemed to, from the moment she’d seen him. The protective way she’d clutched him to her chest as she fled to her death, her confidence in his abilities, and the way she’d looked at him all had to mean something.

Her expression struck a chord in his hollow chest. It was so familiar. After several moments his mind placed it. Frigga had donned that same look the previous day when he’d left her. It was of worry and yet was also of... love. He surprised himself with the realization, finding the strength to sit upright. She cared about him, at least as much as Rinda had. He owed her something for that, for knowing what he was and raising him without outright contempt all these years. But he needed to get to the council meeting. Thor’s friends had to be taken care of.

Gungnir humming in his grip once more, he set off towards the castle through the gardens. It was still early. She would still be there. The council would be assembling. His steps faltered as the terrain changed underneath his feet. Where was he going?

“Loki,” Frigga called, rising from the base of a tree. A part of him was interested in the fact that he noted concern in her gaze. He opened his mouth for a moment and then closed it. He’d been in the middle of something important but the sight of the plants distracted him.

Despite that fact that spring had barely arrived, the pear trees were heavy with fruit, and the grape vines were not far behind. He reached up, forgetting what he was going to say, and plucked one of the pears from a branch. It looked stunning.

He felt a hand on his arm as his bit into the fruit, savoring the sweet flavor that was no doubt imbued with magic to fill a warrior better than ten feasts ever could. Frigga’s plants were always full of magic. It was her habit he supposed, letting her sit him down on a bench beside her.

 

It was not until he’d finished the pear that he returned to his senses. Loki shot up from the stone seat, muttering about things to do and meetings to get to as he attempted to flee from Frigga’s presence. He could not face her. She caught his arm and spun him around.

“Loki,” she began firmly, dropping the forceful tone with a sigh, “I know there is likely more on your mind than your heritage, but I admit I have no idea what. I do know that you can’t resort to starving yourself in your fretting. It’s irresponsible and immature. The last time you ate an entire pear from that tree you and your brother had just returned battered and bruised from Alfheim after nearly dying!” He flinched, and she realized her voice had risen to a shout.

She sighed and started again. “I only wish to aid you, to guide you if I can. I...Look, how about this. After this squabble with Jotunheim is over and your brother is returned safely home, you and I will get to the bottom of everything that has happened to you these past few days. Is that reasonable?” She seemed hopeful.

“Only after those conditions are met?” he asked.

“Only then.”

“Fine I-thank you… mother,” he managed to say before spinning on his heel and leaving the gardens. He knew he would come to regret that agreement, but Frigga would not have let him leave without an answer. He’d slipped up, been so preoccupied with himself he’d let his air of calm falter. He could not do so again.

For the moment, he would focus on being as persuasive as possible during the council meeting. The rest of Thor’s friends needed to be divided among their separate duties. It was a simple task for him to complete and the only safe way to discourage rebellion among the four of them. When they were together they could breed quite terrible grudges, as he’d seen.

The council was still assembling when he arrived. He’d used his walk back to clean any evidence of his mild breakdown from his person. The metal of his armor looked polished and clean and his sunken eyes were hidden all thanks to the spell he’d placed over himself. Settling onto the throne, he checked that the council was prepared to receive and beckoned the guard to send in the Warrior’s Three.

 

All of them entered, Volstagg more casually than the rest, and bowed before him. A councilman called the meeting to order. He then began to rattle off events from the previous day. When he stated the appointment of Sif as the new commander of the Einherjar, Loki gauged the three warriors’ reactions. They did not seem surprised at the mention, meaning Sif had spoken to them already. He was glad he’d agreed to assign them to their new tasks that day. Waiting much longer would have invited an armed rebellion to rise from among their ranks.

He stood to address them as the councilman finished his tally. Fandral and Hogun still watched him with narrowed eyes and guarded expressions. Volstagg was more amicable, not even coming close to a smile but still being worlds more cheerful than his two compatriots.

“My friends,” he began, watching how they started at the words, “it has come to my attention under my rule that for all you have done for this realm and its people, you have not been rewarded for your sacrifices.”

“Rewarded how?” Hogun asked. Loki took a half step down the stairs and grinned.

“Why with statuses of course!” He waved his hand about extravagantly. “You each have honed a particular set of skills in addition to the ones you use for battle, and I know you will fair well in the positions that this council has approved for you.

“Fandral, your sharp eye for weaknesses in opponents doubles as a watchful gaze of the people, mostly women, around you. With that keen sense, you have won many great battles and hearts for yourself.” He let the blonde warrior revel in his memories for a moment. “I, Asgard itself, calls you to turn that eye to greater purposes, so that you may achieve greater conquests. In your new position as Captain of the Palace Guard, it will be left to you to spot and resolve weaknesses that your predecessor Hoenir could not. It will be left to you to defend the fair maidens and noble diplomats of these shining halls.

“Hogun, you yourself are a man of determined strength and blunt, honest words. It is that simplicity and persistence which this council needs if it is to keep from floundering in the throws of bureaucracy when disaster rests on the horizon.” He heard several councilmembers protest, but shot them a glare and pressed on. “By the truth of your speech, the solidarity of your character, and the important perspective of Vanaheim you bring to this group, Asgard knows you are a sound fit for the empty council seat the Allfather had not yet been able to fill.” He took a breath. One more, just one more. He’d saved the easiest for last.

“Volstagg,” he began slowly, “I know your family is an important part of your life, because why wouldn’t it be? Being there to raise and guide a child is the most important duty of all. That should not be neglected. Therefore I have assigned you a position which will allow you to remain close to home, most of the time. As Asgard’s diplomat to foreign realms, your amicable nature will allow you to be well received in others’ halls. Your tendency to be slow to anger will grant you the strength to withstand tedious bargaining and slow responses to propositions. Of course between your trips and reports back to the throne, you will be able to spend your time tending to your family. They will no longer have to fret over your safe return after you have gone.”

He came close to sighing in relief at the small smiles that had come to light their faces. Fandral’s was indicative of the courtships he hoped to pursue with his new title. Hogun’s showed pride over being chosen to represent his realm and the voice of reason in the high court of the Golden City. Volstagg’s beaming grin championed his eagerness to have the chance to raise his daughter with confidence and safety.

Loki’s own smile was due to the knowledge that, spread out in their different schedules and tasks, they would find it very difficult to come together and oppose him should they decide to. Yet why would they? He had shown his capacity to honor their good traits and forgive and forget the mistakes of their past.

He ensured that smile stayed plastered on his face all through the midday meal he, the council, and the Warrior’s Three were forced to share. For once, he did not need to say a word. They were so preoccupied with themselves and their new responsibilities that they had put him from their thoughts. His amusement over their selfishness allowed him to keep the rest of his own mind at bay as he downed his food. By the time he came back under the three warriors’ scrutiny he would be ready to finish dealing with Jotunheim, and all of Thor’s friends would be along for the ride.

 


	7. Patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So this is a shorter update but I wanted to get you something (I'll be bogged down today and tomorrow with massive tests I need to prep for). Loki was faced with some serious crap in the last few chapters and I needed to have some downtime in between before things ramped up again. There are a few ideas that I've been mulling over (some of which were suggested by you all) that I might be addressing here. Please let me know what you think/if you have any other things you'd like me to explore! Thanks!!!

The moment he was free of the council and Thor’s friends, Loki hid away in his chambers. He needed time, time to think. He’d come too close to unraveling completely. He knew that. He couldn’t decide, however, if that would be such a bad thing. Frigga seemed to think it was. Knowing how concerned she was with him and how much he himself didn’t want to face her concern, he decided to err on the side of caution.

If he wasn’t able to keep his composure - or, rather, his composed front - she would start hounding with questions. Those he knew he didn’t want to answer. Feeling ill at the thought of his day, he flopped face first onto his bed. He needed one night’s rest. That was all. Then he could start working at the same pace he’d had before.

 

He slept until after sunset the next day. What finally woke him was a nightmare. A vision of him impaling his mother the way he’d impaled his birth father, the memory still making his stomach churn for reasons he couldn't place. He found it difficult to recall for certain if it was Frigga or Rinda he'd so brutally murdered in the dream. He thought he remembered Frigga’s eyes staring down at him, blood seeping through the gold torso of her dress…

His library needed to be tended to, he thought, shutting away his feelings on his tumultuous experiences in the past few days. He focused on that task and that task alone as he pulled his long coat over the shirt and pants he'd slept in. The castle was quiet as he set off. Yet, the possibility of meeting someone made him set a spell of invisibility around himself just the same. The magic helped calm his strained nerves. It was a pleasant side-effect. Being in contact with or dabbling in his reserves of power, a power he shared only with his mothers, always gave him a small boost of confidence.

Despite his wish to get to his warded sanctuary as soon as possible, a small stubborn voice that sounded a lot like Frigga pushed him to head deeper into the palace. He finally came to a halt in the kitchens. Freshly cleaned dishes sat in stacks, waiting to be put away. The remnants of that night’s feast still sat on a table. He could feel that some of the dishes still held traces of heat from the roaring cooking fires. The embers of those blazing pits still flickered behind him.

He - at the insistence of the stubborn voice that had led him down here - summoned a cloth to wrap the food in and began to pick his way through the dishes. He didn’t plan to eat most of the meats and cakes and fruits he picked out, but he made himself collect the meal all the same. Hopefully, it would silence the part of his mind that had started nagging him so. He stored the scraps in his pocket between worlds with his daggers and knives. He realized his armor from Jotunheim was still there. The thought of the realm made his stomach drop, but it also reminded him of one other task he needed to check off his list before he could disappear for a few days.

 

Being back on the Bifrost in the outfit and gloves he had worn less than a week before set his nerves on edge. He approached the observatory, wringing his hands as he walked. Heimdall stood resolute as always.

“I would not suggest another trip to Jotunheim,” he said evenly. “The realm is in chaos. Neither I nor the Frost Giants can locate their king.” So he hadn’t seen Laufey’s death at the castle. That made sense. Heimdall had always favored turning his eye outward towards the realms rather than inward on the Aesir. He only ever did so when he suspected treason.

“That, guardian, is not my intention this night,” Loki began. “While I must admit the disappearance of Laufey is disconcerting, I am not surprised at the occurrence. Jotunheim is not a realm prepared for war. Perhaps some of the Jotuns themselves realized that and took action. Did you see the king before he disappeared?” He fought not to swallow nervously.

“I did not. My eyes were turned elsewhere at the time. On your brother, in fact.”

Loki started. He looked away as he waited for Heimdall to continue.

“He attempted to reclaim his hammer, and was quite distressed to find himself unworthy of its weight.” Heimdall paused, and Loki turned back to meet his gaze. “He seems to have realized the flaws in his character. I hope in time he will be able to be welcomed back to Asgard.”

The silence stretched out between them as Loki looked for an answer. _He won’t change, not really. He’ll still hate Jotunheim just as much as his father does. Your only hope is to be as useful to him as you were to Odin, to be forced back under the boot of another-_ He took a breath, breaking free from his mind. Thor could be more than Odin, couldn’t he?

“When the day comes when he is again worthy of his might I wish to be the first to know,” he said. “For now, good Heimdall, alert me when there is a change in the winds of Jotunheim. Their bureaucracy has always been fast acting. I do not think it will be long before another finds their way to the throne.”

Heimdall nodded, and Loki bid him goodnight. There was little more to do than wait. Wait for Jotunheim’s new king to rise and wait for Thor’s friends to settle into their positions before he made himself present in the court again. He had always been good at waiting.

 

Cleaning, on the other hand, was never an activity he’d been too fond of. Mischief was no fun if you undid your mess afterward. Looking over the destruction he’d wrought on his library, he regretted his earlier actions. The destruction he was still proud of. He’d always had a respect for the unabashed representation of chaos one could bring on in a rage; it was one of Thor’s few redeeming qualities.

What he did regret was the fact that he’d left nothing but the bookcases standing. Commissioning new furniture from the craftsman for a room that no one could enter would raise suspicions. It was likely Odin had pulled the previous decor from other realms or abandon castle rooms. Those sources was not an option for Loki. The castle had been refurbished after the war with Jotunheim, filled with diplomats and nobles and extravagant new chambers for guests of the Aesir.

He sighed and set his bundle of food on the only remaining piece of furniture in the room: a nondescript stone table by the door. The room would have to be remodeled by hand, then. It was not a task he was incapable of. It was simply one that would be tedious and repetitive. He pulled a roll from the bundle and set to work.

It took a little over two hours, and three more rolls, before he’d finally gotten all of the rubble cleaned up and organized into which piece of furniture or decor it had come from. Then he set to taking inventory of the books. There were over a dozen different stories on forgotten or removed pieces of Asgard’s history, but most of the tomes were on complicated and powerful forms of magic. Most of them seemed in near mint condition, but the books on conjuring - different from the summoning magic he used - were worn, as if someone had spent hundreds of years going over and over the materials.

Loki knew who was most likely the one to have poured over the pages in pursuit of mastering the magical ability. The thought of Hela made him shift uncomfortably but he brushed the ominous feeling away. Controlling his thoughts was much easier when he was rested. She was still locked away, and he had her books. Perhaps he’d take a break from his dutiful repair work to study up on a way to give his half-sister a nasty surprise when she finally broke free. That, he discovered, was a productive and wholly absorbing way to spend his time.

 


	8. Changing Winds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So this is the second chapter of downtime stuff before things get serious again. Because I apparently have no idea how to write extended downtime I kept this break short and sweet.  
> However! We get the lovely chance here to explore some character dynamics and set up some plot stuff that will be important in the future, so win?
> 
> Anyways thank you for reading! Please give me feedback if you can!!!

Over two months passed before Heimdall came to Loki with news. In that time, he finished his remodeling of the library. All the furniture was now a made of rich black walnut inlaid with creeping patterns of leaves and vines, courtesy of his own transmutation magic. He’d reformed the statues in the shape of a pair of wolves and set them up as if they were guarding the entrance. He’d also managed, with some difficulty, to reorganize the books so that an entire set of shelves could be removed. The extra space and spare wood went into extending the sofa to a length that he could comfortably stretch out and sleep on when he finally grew tired enough to sleep without nightmares.

Since then he spent most of his time in the library, only leaving to smuggle a small meal from the kitchens or attend a council meeting every few days. He’d had concerns about showing his face around the palace due to the animosity that had arisen between himself and Thor’s friends. The warriors had been known to sometimes hold grudges for centuries.

However, it seemed Loki had made amends for their spat in giving Sif and the Warriors Three the positions that they had been fancying or discovered that they fancied after the fact. Either way, Hogun brought sound advice and calm wisdom to the meetings. Volstagg had headed out on his first trip to Vanaheim with zeal, and Fandral and Sif were spending day after day discussing battle strategies and training regimens with the aging former commander of the Aesir army: Tyr. Loki himself had even been invited to a few of the war meetings, where all three of the other participants listened and took his advice to heart.

 

He’d made less progress with his conjuring. The basic concepts had been easy to grasp. They were nearly identical to those of summoning. A roadblock had come up when it came to actually manipulating his energy into solid objects. The longer he tried, the more frustrated he got at the wisps of green energy that danced between his fingers but took no structure.

It was after one incredibly infuriating practice session that he’d ended up in one of the private training grounds below the palace. Normally he would have honed his combat skills on the balcony to Frigga’s study, running through attack routines as she critiqued his form. He’d been avoiding her as of late, still shaken by his near breakdown.

The air was humid with a bout early summer heat. Below the palace, where the training grounds were, it was even worse. He’d quickly discarded his outer tunic, followed by his undershirt as he burned his frustration away in the cloud of dust and flashes of polished metal in the daylight. It was there that Sif brought him Heimdall’s message.

“Loki!” she called, rounding the corner into the arena. He noted her approach out of the corner of his eye, hurling one last dagger into the training dummy backed against the railing that separated the training space from the cliffs below. He straightened, rolling the tension out of his shoulders, and turned to face her. He cocked one hip to the side casually. She was staring with interest at the stone wall next to him.

“Good day Sif. What brings you down here?” he asked, stepping into her line of sight. He twirled the dagger he still held in his fingers before sliding it into one of his belt loops. The corners of his mouth twitched up as her eyes followed his movements before flicking away again.

“I came to deliver a message for you-” She broke off as he sauntered towards her, pulling a towel off a bench and slinging it around his shoulders. She blinked and cleared her throat before continuing.

“Heimdall says the wind in Jotunheim has changed. I do not know what that means but he seemed to wish to see you as soon as possible,” she said. He caught her arm in a loose grip as she turned to leave.

“Thank you, fair Sif, for taking the time to find and inform me,” he said, smirking. “Your **initiative** in taking **this** -” He gestured only partially to himself. “ for **yourself** is greatly appreciated. Surely finding me alone down here was no simple task.” He released her arm and grinned as she furrowed her brow but stood there frozen for a moment. Then he stepped away to retrieve his dagger. She roused herself and moved to leave.

“Oh, and Sif?” he called, almost able to see her groan as she turned back around. He was standing with his hand in on his bare upper hip and twirled the other dagger in his fingers. “Do tell him that I’ll make a **vigorous** effort to come shortly.” She seemed to dislike his phrasing. He shot her a winning smile as she turned and almost stormed out of the room.

It was good to be back to be back to his old games. Sif was the best woman of all to throw loosely covered innuendo at because she knew he’d never act on his casual flirting and she’d be damned if she were to ‘stoop to his level’ and make the first move. He didn’t care. Flirting just happened to be one of the best ways to rile **anyone** up and if one of his victims decided to get physical, fine. If they didn’t, it didn’t matter. He’d made his mischief regardless.

 

A few hours later, after he’d washed and dressed and finished his afternoon meeting with the council, he stood next to Heimdall in the Observatory. His jovial mood had left him. All the thoughts he’d been avoiding for the past few weeks through his work had come rushing back the moment he stepped onto the bridge. He glowered at the galaxies that stretched out before him, waiting for Heimdall to speak.

“You told me to inform you when the chaos in Jotunheim had been subdued, and so it has. A new leader has risen to the throne: Skadi.” Loki nodded and waited as the guardian continued. “She is Laufey’s second eldest daughter and has more ferocity and more temper than all her siblings combined. Yet be warned, she is also gifted with wit and patience. Though I do not think she bears the same hostility against our realm that her father did, to make her an enemy would be a grave mistake.” Loki smiled. This would be a bit of a challenge. He thanked Heimdall and made his way back to the castle for that evening’s feast. He hadn’t attended many of them recently but he needed to speak to all of his new officials at once. He hoped Sif had gotten over his jest at the training grounds.

 

“Another trip to Jotunheim?” Fandral asked over a well-roasted turkey. “I’m not sure. You recall how well the last one went.”

“And we know next to nothing about this new queen,” Hogun chimed in. “Going there could be a death trap.”

“We can’t ignore a realm forever,” Loki answered, swirling the wine in his goblet, “and you all won’t actually be going. I just want you watching and waiting with Heimdall in case things go south.”

Their previous protests died in their throats. Their gazes shiten from him to each other nervously, all of them nervous about the danger of his plan. There was no one else besides Frigga to take the throne, and she had been adamant about not wanting it. Finally, it was Sif who spoke up.

“Perhaps, my liege,” she began slowly, “you would take at least one of us with you. A king traveling alone to a realm we are still technically at war with would be…” She looked for the right word. “Unwise.” He smiled at that.

“I appreciate your concern, but to come with warriors would be to invite an attack. I am confident in both your own abilities and those of our guardian should things go amiss.”

They did not raise objections again. It was a welcome change to the outright hostility they had shown him a little over a month ago. He drained his goblet and plucked an apple from a bowl of fruit before standing.

“Meet me on the Bifrost just after midday tomorrow. I will have some items to award you that should prove useful in the coming years, whether we must wage a new war against Jotunheim or not,” he mused, striding from the hall.

He bit into his apple as he made his through the castle to the forges. The sweet fruit tasted ashy in light of the recent events he’d been forced to think about again, but he knew nothing could be distracting him during his audience tomorrow, not even the mild hunger that had been a constant companion to him in recent days. The Ivaldi brothers had been finished with his works for some time, but he had yet to come down and claim them, waiting for a time when he was in need of good news and something to occupy his thoughts. They were even better than he’d hoped.

His new armor was a delightful combination of styles from his royal armor and his combat outfit from Jotunheim with a few personal touches thrown in. The intricate metal chest piece sat overtop a long, open-fronted vest with an inner metal lining that hung down just above his knees, and the large shoulders were able to accommodate a cape for more formal affairs.  The bracers matched the chest piece and fit snugly regardless of whether he wore the armor’s gloves or not. He was especially impressed with knee-high boots made entirely of metal. No matter how heavily he stepped they barely made a sound.

The gifts he’d requested for Heimdall, Sif and the Warriors Three were also exquisite. He knew they’d earn him extra appreciation from them and thus more room for him to maneuver in the future. He thanked the brothers and left.

 

The next day, standing on the Bifrost with Heimdall watching Sif and the Warrior’s Three approach on horseback, Loki could feel little besides his apprehension. It had kept him up all night, and at the moment it twisted his stomach into knots. He knew his plan. He knew exactly what he was going to do, going to say. What he didn’t know was how the people he’d chosen to have his back during that plan would react. That, he couldn’t plan for and couldn’t avoid once he came back from Jotunheim. _If you come back._ He shook the thought away.

Thor’s friends, perhaps once again his friends, given time, stood resolute on the Bifrost. None of them seemed any happier at his decision to venture alone into Skadi’s court. Still, they made no objections and had arrived precisely when he’d told them to. There had been concerns from Heimdall that four warriors would not be enough to get him out should trouble arise, but Loki didn’t doubt there skill. If things did go that far south, then at least only five of the Aesir would die that day. _Four and a half, at best, monster-prince._ He cursed silently, finding it much more difficult to ignore his thoughts when he hadn’t slept.

“This day will change the course of history,” he began, clinging to his resolve to keep his voice steady. “Whether Asgard must engage Jotunheim in a second great war or the deep scars between our realms may begin to heal, I cannot yet say. What I can say is that I know if Skadi decides to begin this war anew, she will come face-to-face with Asgard’s finest warriors in the first battle. It is for that reason I have decided some upgrades are in order to ensure those warriors stand as mighty as possible.” He summoned the gifts the Ivaldi brothers had made.

Each item was masterfully crafted and embedded with powerful enchantments that Loki doubted even he could out-do. For Heimdall, there was a rough leather cloak that seemed to hold all the galaxy on the inner fabric. When inverted, it could mimic any surroundings to hide the wearer from view.

“A way for the one who sees all to not be seen,” Loki said, handing him the heavy garment. Sif’s came next.

For her the brothers had crafted a shield that could repair itself from any damage - accepting that which tore it in two - and could flash as bright and golden as the sun to blind enemies. Sif pulled it onto her arm with ease, admiring the polished silver surface as Loki pulled out Fandral’s weapon.

Loki knew the man dabbled in archery and had told the brothers such. They had crafted the blonde warrior a shining golden bow as lithe and elegant as his rapier. When fired, it would split the arrow into three, thin, deadly projectiles. Fandral held it gently, as one would a newborn, admiring how it glittered in the sun.

The gauntlets that had been crafted for Volstagg reflected the daylight just as brilliently as Sif’s shield, but were illuminated themselves by red trail trails along the forearms and between the joints. Loki had remembered the Jotun’s skin burning the ginger warrior. Even with the natural healing and remedies of the Aesir the wound had still scarred. The polished metal that now covered the wound was enchanted with the heat of the forge it had been crafted in, to protect the wearer’s arms from any cold. Even the icy touch of Loki’s forefathers would not break through the metal.

Hogun’s item came last, and was perhaps the one that unsettled Loki the most. It was a small sword with a square blade made of dark black metal. Any harmful substance that the metal was bathed in would be memorized by the runes carved into the surface. The blade would take on qualities from whatever poison it had absorbed when it was next used. Loki had not doubt that in Hogun’s hands it would be a terrifying force indeed.

“These are not gifts,” Loki stated, drawing their attention again. “They are tools, tools I hope you will use in the days to come. Jotunheim is a paltry foe compared to what enemies lurk beyond the horizon. After this day, I hope I will soon be able to shine a light on what dangers I have seen so all of Asgard may be prepared. For now-” He smirked and gestured for Heimdall to open the Bifrost. “-we shall see what this Skadi has to offer.” He turned and strutted into the rainbow light. _Let’s see how she will deal with_ **_me_** _._


	9. Coming To Fruition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! I've been waiting for a while to post this chapter. It was one of the first things I wrote when I came up with this idea. I hope you enjoy it!  
> Please let me know what you think!

Heimdall was right. The storm that had whipped snow over the jagged peaks on his last visit was absent now. The air was heavy with tension, waiting. It made Loki shiver. He couldn’t disguise himself this time, couldn’t reach for the comfort of his magic. He had to face this.

The Bifrost had spat him out just beyond the main city. He could feel the casket buzzing at being so close to its home again, overpowering Gungnir’s low hum. He’d taken the treasure from the vault that morning. There would be no harm in offering it as a bargaining chip; it had been weakened since it was originally stolen.

Loki had discovered some weeks ago while going through the books in his library that a particular selfish old man had been siphoning off parts of the object’s power to complete a ritual to extend his own life. The knowledge made Loki want to return the casket just to spite Odin by robbing him of the source of his longevity.

He was found by a group of guards soon after he passed the outer walls. They surrounded and escorted him to the castle. No responses were offered to his questions or comments. Apparently, Skadi was keeping her subjects on a very tight leash. _Interesting_.

 

“So, the younger prince of Asgard returns to grace us with his presence,” Skadi mocked as he entered the room. Her voice was low, edgy, as cold and sharp as the ice spikes on her throne. She was dressed in furs and pelts, somehow stitched together to make a short, elegant gown that accented the shock of pale grey hair running down the center of her head.

“No prince, my lady, but a king comes to discuss with you the future of our realms,” he answered. She leaned forward.

“I have no interests in any deal you wish to make, liesmith. You and your people are nothing but bugs to us, waiting to be squished.” He chuckled.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Skadi. The Aesir have much to offer.”

“The Aesir never keep their word. I want **nothing**. My father went missing without a trace after your visit, and only a few sorcerers are capable of such magic. One of them was there the day of Thor’s attack and is standing right in front of me now. Maybe I should take his head. Even if he is innocent, it would narrow the pool of potential suspects” she said, licking her lips. He kept his expression blank, unaffected.

“Your father’s fate matters little to me. Even if I had betrayed my realm and offered him an opportunity to enter Asgard, he certainly didn’t act on it wisely.”

“You lie, Odinson. You murdered a king and will pay for your crimes,” she growled, standing and approaching him.

“You’re getting off topic, Skadi. Allow me to refocus your attention.”

He turned around a stood Gungnir on the icy floor, summoning the casket that had started this mess to his hands. He took slow breaths as the transformation washed over him.  Heimdall and Thor’s friends would be watching intently now. _They’re going to kill you, to run the Bifrost red with your blood now that they know. They’ll even bring your brother back for the occasion. Watch him crush your skull while they laugh-_

It didn’t matter. They didn’t matter, yet. What mattered was backing Skadi into a corner while he had the chance so Asgard would be safe for a few more years. He spun to face the Jotun queen once more. She froze at the sight of him. Good. Now he could get through to her.

“What is this?” She hissed. Her fiery red eyes matched his own burning set.

“Oh, this? This is the truth, and what I’m about to tell you is a threat,” he said, surprised at how easy it was to put malice into his words. “You are Laufey’s second heir. I am his first, born during the war between Asgard and Jotunheim.”

“Your realm and **mine** ,” Skadi responded, narrowing her eyes.

“I do not think it so. I am older. I have the greater claim to the throne, just as I have a claim to Asgard’s throne through my mother Rinda.”

“The Aesir witch-“

“Who first arrived here under guest rights. Funny how Laufey continued to protect her during her stay.”

“My father would not protect such **filth**.”

“Would he not?” He was grinning now. He could feel it. “If my memory serves the last time Asgardians came here under the pretense of guest rights looking for answers, Laufey threatened their lives. It seemed he had an unfortunate experience with the Aesir in the past. Perhaps he allowed one too far into his court.”

Skadi did not respond. His smile grew wider, more malevolent.

“Therefore, I will make you a proposition. My people will leave you in peace. You will take this casket to rebuild your home, and in return remain neutral to Asgard – to **all** of the realms we are aligned with.” He dropped his smile and stared at directly into her eyes as he delivered his next words. “Otherwise I will bring down the full force of Asgard’s armies and lay siege to your realm. You are not prepared for that war.

“Jotunheim will be mine, as Asgard is now, and I will have a fair claim to both. Would you care for that outcome?” Skadi swallowed and shook her head. She looked more furious than ever, searching for a way out of this mess. It took her several moments to realize she had no cards to play.

“We will accept your generous offer,” she conceded. Loki felt the corner of his mouth tug upwards into a smirk.

“Wonderful.” He dropped the casket unceremoniously and turned away.

“For the record,” He began, casting his gaze back towards her, “If I told your father anything I would have said that it was possible for him to kill Odin. I would never have said I would let him. So you see, I do keep my word.” He felt the last of his second skin fading away up his brow as he turned back around. He was glad he had made his last address to her with the same crimson eyes as her own, even if the appearance brought his heart to his throat and dropped his stomach to the floor.

The trip back was quiet. Loki was focused on fighting back the chaos that had returned to his mind. They knew now to attack him for being kin to that race of – He stopped himself. Whatever prejudices they still held, he would learn for certain what their minds were soon enough.

 

He arrived in the Observatory to find it much the same way they had left it. Sif and the Warriors Three stood at Heimdall’s side, their hands placed on each others’ shoulders so they could see what the guardian saw. Loki was surprised to find Heimdall staring at him with an air of… Acceptance? Approval? He couldn’t quite place it, but it eased his frazzled nerves. The other four were not gazing at him as kindly.

“Heimdall,” he said, choosing to address the guardian first, “please return to the palace. Take your sword. I wish no one to pass through the Bifrost for the next few days without express permission from me. Even an accidental trip to Jotunheim could shatter our tentative agreement. Yet, keep me noted on the developments in that realm.”

“Of course my liege,” he spoke, dipping his head respectfully and exiting the Observatory. As the guardian drifted away across the bridge, dread wormed its way into Loki’s stomach. He turned and faced the others, his palace officials – if not his friends – to learn their thoughts on him.

They all seemed unsettled, waiting for some signal. Loki wished they would just get on with it. The silence that stretched on between them was becoming a nuisance.

“For the love of the Norns say **something** ,” Loki growled, letting his impatience show. He was tired, both mentally and physically. He was sick of waiting and watching, of harboring deep-seeded fear at what Asgard would think of him when they knew the truth. He’d made there fours his equals, given them gifts that could not be matched. If they still despised him for what he was then so be it. _Run_ , his mind screamed. _Run before they tear you to shreds... No. Stay. Accept their judgment. Whatever it is, it is what you deserve. They could get on without you._

“You are the master of words, Loki. We are not as skilled at speaking,” Hogan said. His voice did nothing to help Loki learn their intentions.

“Then act,” Loki breathed out through clenched teeth.

Volstagg was the first to move. He walked around to Loki’s side, almost behind him, his eyes darkened with something Loki couldn’t place quickly enough. He did not turn his head to hold the gaze. It was a good position for a first strike. _Aimed at the spine, to paralyze, to cripple you so you are easy prey._

The others followed his lead, gathering around him. Sif was at his other side. That made sense. _She hates you the most so of course she wants one of the best spots to attack._ Fandral was next to her, Hogan next to him. They were probably waiting for the second wave of attacks so they could join in too.

Volstagg clapped him on the back. Loki was surprised the blow had not forced him to the ground as he’d expected. Had the ginger been holding back? _Wanting to toy with you before he destroys you._ Loki straightened and met his gaze.

He did not seem angry, or aggressive at all. He whipped his head around to the others and found the same expression on each of them. Not hatred, not fear, but…understanding? It seemed clouded by something. _Distrust, traitor-king_. They didn’t want him dead, at least, and as long as they followed his orders and understood that he was working for the best of Asgard, he didn’t need them to trust his every word.

He licked his lips and tested his luck, saying, “Then if we are done here I would have you return to the castle. Celebrate Asgard’s newfound safety. It is deserved. I shall be in attendance, later.”

He still half expected them to stay, to snatch Gungnir from his hands and use it to hurl him into some realm – Svartalfheim or Helheim most likely, Muspelheim if they wanted to see him suffer – so that Asgard could forget the scourge of a king who dared say he was an Aesir.

Yet they simply did as he asked, gathering their horses and riding off up the Bifrost. No words were spoken, no second glances taken. They were treating him differently than they had in the past weeks, treating him like… A king? _That’s what you wanted to be, isn’t it? A king remains separate from his people._ He sighed, it was not a perfect situation but it would do. There were bigger matters to worry about than his own small wishes.

He’d earned Heimdall’s respect and Thor’s friends were obeying him. That had been the purpose of his whole convoluted plan. The success, however, felt hollow as he made his way back to the palace. He took his time so he could muster a facade of poise and strength. The feast would have already begun by the time he arrived.

Asgardians were skilled at celebrating. Empty cups and platters crashed around the tables set on one side of the room. In the middle warriors, merchants, and craftsman were dancing. Their styles differed wildly from traditional group movements to abject chaos to what may have actually been a brawl in one corner. Loki observed it all passively.

If things were different, he might have joined in the revelry as he had in the past. Thor was always big on festivals. Loki was subtler in his enjoyment of the vast galas the palace threw. Where Thor would drink and shout and parade around with a flock of enamored Aesir of all types, Loki would melt into the crowd, throwing sarcastic yet well-received jokes to warriors as he sipped his wine at a feast table, smirking in response to their raucous laughter. He shied away from gathering the large entourage of young women Thor enjoyed courting, floating across the dance floor and teasing as many interested parties as possible before disappearing into the crowd again. His game would go on until the party ended or one of its players grew bold enough to drag him away from the main festivities.

The memories made him smile as he watched the people revel now. Asgard was still Asgard, regardless of the state of its royal family or what threats may loom on the horizon. Its people would endure, that much he was sure of, and find something to celebrate after all that occurred.

Thinking of the future made his brow furrow. The immediate threat of Jotunheim was behind him, but those future dangers he had learned of would not have such simple solutions. Hela could not be negotiated with. She was… a monster, in the truest sense of the word. A true monster would not simply roll over and die like any base creature. It would fight, tearing through any threat in its way, killing everything that stepped before it, even accidentally in its blind fury. Such a monster-

“It does not do well to see Asgard’s king scowling so when there is a celebration going on,” Frigga said, appearing next to him. Loki straightened from his pessimistic slouch immediately, wiping any evidence of his thoughts from his face.

“I was merely looking to the future,” he said, “to what threats beyond Jotunheim the Aesir must soon stand against.”

“Focus too much on the future and one tends to forget the present.” She looked him over carefully. ”Go. Enjoy yourself in the company of your subjects and warriors. After all you have done today you do not deserve to be alone. Leave Gungnir and your responsibilities here. Allow your people to celebrate with you.”

Loki hesitated but relented nonetheless. He handed the spear to his mother as he stood. It would not do to challenge her resolve. She was stubborn than he and Thor both combined.

The memory of his brother sent a pang of hollow remorse through his chest as he descended from the throne. He’d been so occupied with his plans that he had put Thor’s status from his mind. The Thunderer hadn’t been the sole subject of his thoughts since Jotunheim. Technically, he could reverse his brother’s banishment. But if he was not worthy, if he returned the same arrogant prince he had been when he left, Loki would be in the same situation he had been before everything had begun. A selfish hothead was no good as a king. He presented a danger to his people and to himself.

Loki let himself withdraw from the hall through a dark corner whose inhabitants were too drunk to recognize him as he swept by. He would go to Odin’s library. He would spend the night practicing his conjuring, maybe getting a few hours of sleep if he could.

In the morning, when Heimdall had returned to his post, he would go and ask after his brother. To go now would be selfish, a grave insult to the break he had told Heimdall to take for the evening. He had ignored his mother’s wishes for him, but festivities were trivial in the shadow of a coming apocalypse. Besides, books could be just as wonderfully occupying as a night of company could be and they didn’t take up so much space in his bed or require uncomfortable morning farewells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh! and for reference, Loki's new armor is the set from [this](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7f/24/a7/7f24a7a5a5813e86c6f5217d216a853b.jpg) art (I've found a whole set of concept and fan art images to base his future looks on):  
> 


	10. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, don't you love in-between chapters? (AKA the bane of my existence cause this took so long to write) Bridging the gaps between new arcs is not easy ya'll. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and the contemplating Loki does in it.  
> Thank you all SO MUCH for all the hits, kudos, and comments you've left so far. Please don't hesitate to tell me what you think!

Despite what he’d told himself the night of the feast, Loki did not go see Heimdall the next day. He did and thought about practically everything but going after his brother. Asgard held several more parties in celebration of his success with the Frost Giants. Unlike the first gala at the palace, Loki threw himself into celebrating them. He absorbed himself with wine and his game of teasing various bachelors and bachelorettes, trying to drown out his own damned mind. He was, however, always sure to act like he was genuinely enjoying himself whenever Frigga appeared in the corner of his gaze - which was often during those affairs.

Eventually, when the celebrating stopped two weeks later, Loki shut himself into his library, emerging to meet with his council and complete his duties for the day before hiding away again. He reread the historical accounts of Hela’s presence in Asgard, practiced his conjuring in the center of the stone floor, and studied the brief notes the Old Man had made on Thanos, looking for details he’d missed the first dozen times he’d gone over them.

 

No matter how much he preferred to stay awake every night, he forced himself to collapse onto the sofa or into his bed on the few days he spent outside his private sanctuary. It would’ve been pleasant, being back on a mostly-regular sleep schedule, except his nightmares had gotten worse.

Before Jotunheim, he’d found a way to avoid his unpleasant dreams that didn’t involve getting completely shit-faced at a party: wait until he was tired enough to sleep without remembering them in the morning. But with Frigga’s closer watch on him came repeated inquiries into his health if he showed up looking tired or hungover. It was very likely the others had told her all of what they’d seen on Jotunheim, and she was regretting her promise to not actually discuss anything that had happened to him after Thor’s banishment.

So, to avoid her questions, he avoided the palace stores of wine and mead and slept, trapping himself in the worst visions his mind had ever concocted. He’d always been more prone to nightmares: born from stress or the early days of adventuring when he had not been as comfortable with combat and death. What he dealt with now were worse.

He’d presented his mind a whole slew of terrifying information, and given it fair game to use every experience against him by recognizing his knowledge on Jotunheim. Had he not brought it up, Loki figured he might have been able to ignore the revelations indefinitely. But accepting his new information had been part of the plan. He’d used his terrifying understanding of the past to lock Skadi down in an agreement she could be readily handled in, and now he was paying for it.

 

Following weeks of nightmares that made him wake ready to scream, he resolved to go see Heimdall, to occupy his mind with finding his brother once again. Asgard would run fine without him - it no longer seemed treachery was on the mind of any of his officials - and he didn’t intend to be gone very long...if he returned at all. He left Gungnir in his quarters and traveled across the Bifrost, all the while squishing down the voice that kept telling him this was all a **very** bad idea.

“Greetings my king. It has been some time since your last visit. I will reiterate what I have said in my messages: Jotunheim is being slowly rebuilt and shows to threat to Asgard,” the Guardian said. Loki waved away the statement.

“That is not why I’m here...though your reconnaissance is appreciated,” he added as he realized how callous his first words had been. “What information have you on Thor?”

The guardian paused for a moment. Loki could see him reaching out with his all-seeing gaze to where his brother had been banished. Heimdall observed for a moment, furrowing his brow at whatever he saw, before turning back to Loki.

“Your brother exists in much the same state I last saw him in. He lives among a group of mortals, learning from them and attempting to fit in with their lives.”

“He _what_?” Loki asked. Heimdall beckoned him forward and laid a hand on his shoulder.

Loki saw what the guardian saw: Thor. He was cooking - cooking? - some eggs on a stove. Three humans were sat at a table, two of them engaged in a very serious conversation about data and equipment and lost readings. The third tapped away on some technological device and rolled her eyes at the other two.

Thor brought the finished meal over them, ending the conversation. They traded pleasantries and jokes as they ate and when they’d finished, one of the mortals who’d been engaged in the debate got Thor’s attention. She was a small woman, brown hair and average appearance, and she seemed able to hold his brother’s attention with ease.

She stood and brought him to a cluttered desk as the other two moved to clear the dishes. After scribbling him a note and handing him some small papers, she kissed his cheek and walked off to assist the other two. He’d found a woman.

Loki had seen enough. He stepped back from Heimdall’s grip, his thoughts raging much the same way they had after he’d learned his true parentage in the vault. He had so many questions.

Why was Thor still living on Midgard? Why hadn’t he reclaimed his powers? Why had he formed a relationship with that **mortal**? Swaying slightly as he tried to process, Loki regretted leaving Gungnir behind because it gave him nothing to lean on. He gnashed his teeth. His attempts to answer his questions left him with more of them than he’d had before. He turned to Heimdall.

“Open the Bifrost to Earth. While I am gone use your own discretion as to who is allowed to travel. Let no one into Jotunheim, and let no one follow me unless it is of grave importance. If you can, contact me yourself first,” Loki said, readying himself by the exit to the Observatory.

“As you wish, my king,” Heimdall answered. Loki heard the familiar metal scape as the sword slid into place to complete the circuit of the Bifrost’s energy, and then he was blinded by a million multicolored lights.

 

Loki took a moment to orient himself in the arid landscape. It was too hot to remain in his armor. Almost unconsciously he shifted his outerwear into something lighter: a green t-shirt under a black leather jacket and matching jeans. He’d fit in seamlessly in the small town. Picking out the collection of buildings on the horizon, he started making his way across the desert. His mind was raving at him the whole way there.

 _This is stupid. This is stupid and reckless and he’s going to kill you the minute he gets back to Asgard._ Loki wouldn’t take Thor back to Asgard.

 _Then he’s going to kill you the minute he finds out the truth._ Thor didn’t have his powers, so Loki wouldn’t be killed immediately. He’d have a chance to flee, or to accept his death with some dignity.

_Either way, he’ll find you. He’ll hunt you down and smash you into a delightful scarlet pulp that he’ll use to color his new cape. And he’ll go parading around wearing it saying, “This is the cape I made from my Jotun brother, a traitor to Asgard and stain on the history of our kings.”_

Loki forced away the thoughts as he entered the human settlement. The streets were quiet, and it didn’t take him long to find the location Thor’s woman had described. Thor was standing outside, looking in through the windows.

He walked up behind the familiar broad shoulders and ridiculously bright blonde hair. _You’re going to regret this._

“Hello, brother.”


	11. Reunions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I really hope you all like this chapter. I've been thinking about some of the scenes in this literally since the moment this all started to come together a week ago (that feels so far away wow)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all like it and since I am now finally free of exams and class and getting into the holiday spirit I was thinking of maybe doing a one-shot or two, just trying my hand at them to see if I like the idea/outcomes.
> 
> If you are interested. Please feel free to send a prompt to me via this email address: kt.vulpix@gmail.com (I don't have anywhere better to get things so *shrugs*) Just put 'Prompt' in the email title somewhere, please. This'll probably be open for a day or two and then take it off.
> 
> OKay so besides all that please enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think in the comments if you can! <3

“Loki?” Thor turned. “Loki!” Thor reached forward and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Loki had to force himself not to flinch. He was  **fine** . He was fine.

“I must say it is good to see you,” he said, smiling. “How’s Asgard? How have you been?”  _ Working, suffering, drowning under truths you could never even conceive of.  _ He kept himself from frowning or glaring at Thor.

“Asgard is fine. Laufey is dead. His heir Skadi had agreed to halt the war between our realms before it spirals out of control.” He kept his tone cool, unaffected.

“That...I would’ve thought father had given up all hope on negotiations.” He paused, looking down for a moment. “Could, could I come home?” Loki swallowed. Heimdall could be watching them, or he could not be. Still, the guardian didn’t know the contents of the few messages Loki had sent and received from Jotunheim the first week after his visit, and Heimdall hadn’t had his eye trained on the palace for some time. He could lie, or he could welcome Thor back -  _ and risk him flaying the flesh from your bones? _

Thor was watching him. Hopeful, eager. He’d clenched his hands into white-knuckled fists, the same grip he used when he brought Mjolnir smashing down on an opponent - ending them, obliterating them. Loki made his decision.

“Skadi does not wish you back in Asgard. Until the agreement can be renegotiated, and until father wakes-”

“Father? What happened to father?”

“He’s fallen into Odinsleep, Thor. I’ve had to take the responsibility of the crown in his absence. Not once in these past months has he even come close to waking. Mother has said that until he rises no one can reverse your banishment, not even I.”

Thor looked completely dejected, his gaze hollow and his face expressionless but empty all the same. Loki knew he’d looked the same way after all his revelations a few short months ago.  _ That doesn’t mean anything. Just because he’s begun to understand hurt as you do doesn’t mean he’ll spare you. You know that. _ And indeed Loki did. In the past, centuries ago, this revelation would have mellowed Thor. It would have brought on some change.

The Thor that had been preparing himself for the throne in recent decades though was bullheaded, callous, absolute. A little pity or understanding wouldn’t earn an opponent more than a quick death. That was all the mercy the hot-headed prince had to spare for his enemies, like the Frost Giants, like Loki.

Thor was never big on broader thinking, but it had gotten worse as the day or his coronation neared. He became so set in his views of black and white, right and wrong, friend and foe. If Loki turned up with blue skin and scarlet eyes, he didn't doubt he’d be slotted into the foe category without a second thought. Thor sighed, snapping Loki from his trance.

“Well, if you have duties I will not keep you.” He his expression shifted to reveal a hint of optimism. “But if you have a day or two to spare?”

“Of course,” Loki answered almost instinctively.  _ Damnit. _ He thought he’d outgrown that impulse in the past months.

The more insensitive and contentious Thor had grown, the more Loki had begun to jump at any chance to earn affection from his brother, at the opportunity to follow Thor into any half-planned catastrophe. He’d sometimes even earn some real recognition from Thor’s friends as well. Apparently, that habit was still embedded in him.

 

He let Thor lead the way, still scolding himself for buckling so easily. He was too caught up in his thoughts, hidden behind an innocuous expression as he looked at but didn’t see the town around him.

The building was large, modern. Loki was surprised he hadn’t taken note of it during his stroll through the streets. All three of the humans he’d seen before were sat in front of books or computers. They all looked up when Thor entered.

Loki had instinctively slid behind Thor as he’d come through the door.  _ So easily going back to being nothing more than his shadow. _ He tried to swallow and choked, frozen in place for a reason he couldn’t put his finger on.

“Thor, did you get the terabyte drive? I need it to store these calculations.” it was Thor’s woman. He heard her stand, the legs of her metal chair grating across the tile floor.

“I am sorry, Jane.” So that was her name. “I was a little sidetracked. There’s someone I’d very much like you to meet.”

At those words, Loki jerked out of his stasis and stepped forward from behind his brother. A casual smile had found its way onto his face. It was out of civility. That was all. He did not care what these mortals through of him.

“Jane, Darcy, Erik. This is my brother, Loki.” The man, Erik, immediately frowned.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” Thor responded. Loki let his gaze slip over to the two women. They seemed less skeptical, Jane the least so, but had not moved to intervene.

“So that’s your brother. Are you going to tell us he’s the God of Mischief?” he asked. Loki pipped up before Thor could answer.

“Among other names. I would be happy to provide a demonstration.”

“Oh really?” the second woman, Darcy, spoke up. She was holding a mug of something that smelled like tea. Loki smirked and flicked his wrist.

Darcy shrieked quite disgracefully as the mug in her hands transformed into a mouse. Jane and Erik jumped as well. The small creature scampered down Darcy’s jeans and across the floor. Loki picked it up and transformed it back, taking a sip of the dark liquid inside. He could not stop the smile that rose to his face at their fight and confusion.

“I believe you haven’t steeped this long enough. Black tea is best when you can get a sense of the strong flavors,” he said. The humans stared at him mouths agape. Thor chuckled.

“Brother must you always resort to tricks?” he asked. Loki was surprised by how much his words stung. He buried his bitterness as Jane opened her mouth to speak.

“So, all that stuff you said, about Asgard and the realms and your hammer.” She paused, biting her lip. “That was all completely true? Not theories?”

“I would never lie to you Jane,” Thor said. Loki fought to not wrinkle his nose and to ignore the pang in his chest at Thor’s soft tone. He didn't care.

Darcy recovered her composure and broke the silence. “Well then, maybe we could go out later? This is the first time any of your family has come to town since you got here, and at least in my experience that’s a reason to celebrate." Loki found himself impressed by her quick recovery and her apparent disregard for the fact that he had just frightened her.

“I think that would be a lovely arrangement,” Thor said as Jane nodded in agreement. He turned back to Loki. “Well?”

“Fine,” he heard himself respond.

 

For the next several hours as Thor’s mortals worked - Thor hovering over them like an attentive puppy and Erik stopping every few moments to ask Loki a question which he either deflected or ignored - things were dreadfully still. Loki finished the cup of tea he’d taken from Darcy and found himself drumming his fingers on the table or picking at his palm every few moments without the drink to distract him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop fidgeting.

Jane asked Thor to take him outside after he started absently tapping a mug. She hadn't meant it as an offense, only requesting quiet as she worked _. _ He bit back the scathing remark he was going to throw her way, standing from the table and strutting out of the room without a word. Thor followed him as he went out the back door of the building.

The surroundings were sparse, at best. A pile of boulders several yards from the building provided the most interesting visual for miles. The dirt was thin and sandy, kicked up into clouds of dust by the faint breeze every few moments.

“So,” Thor said, coming up beside Loki. “Perhaps we could spar? I may not have as much strength as I did, but I think I can still put up a good fight against an Aesir.”

Loki balked and immediately smothered the expression with a passive frown. It was difficult to keep the shrieking voices in his head quiet. All of them screaming the same thing:  _ You’re not Aesir, monster. You’re not Aesir, monster. You’re not Aesir- _

“No,” he said. His voice was hard, clipped. He stalked over to the boulders and clambered up on top of them. Settling down cross-legged on the warm stone he pulled a conjuration book he’d already read three times out of the air.

Pretending to be absorbed in his reading was an easy way to keep Thor from hovering over him. Eventually the Thunderer wandered back inside, but Loki kept up his illusion of interest nonetheless.

Every few minutes he would turn the pages, reading but not comprehending the words. He’d abandoned his jacket in the heat, setting it down on the stone beside him as the sun slipped slowly by overhead. He was grateful when Darcy came out of the building at dusk. He became less so when he saw that Thor had followed her out.

“Hey. We’re ready to go celebrate now if you're still up for it.” Loki closed the book and slid off the rocks. He grabbed his jacket as he went by and threw it on in one smooth motion. Thor was right behind him.

 

The humans had chosen a small, nondescript bar to celebrate in. Thor and Erik obviously knew the place best, but all the two women seemed familiar with it as well. They all settled into a corner table and ordered drinks.

Loki was uncomfortable, despite the bustling of the other patrons and the jovial conversation the other members of his table were engaged in. He caught himself before he started drumming his fingers on the table again. Thor would start to suspect something. He did his best to tune in to the discussion at the table, which as the night wore on turned to his and Thor’s adventures of the past.

“Oh, it was glorious. You should have seen it. These bandits were a small marauding tribe that had found their way onto Vanaheim,” Thor recalled, arms up to enhance his retelling with hand gestures. Loki knew he could tell the story better, but he didn’t bother joining in. He didn’t want to remember how it ended.

“And I was pinned down by three of them at once, and then their leader appeared. He was this  **massive** Frost Giant.” Loki remembered him. He’d been covered in scars and layers upon layers of odd geometric tattoos.

“So he started charging at me, and I summoned Mjolnir but it was too slow. With a mighty heave, I threw the bandits from me.” That wasn’t exactly true. Fandral had shot them in the knees first.

“But I still did not have Mjolnir, so I knew it would be a difficult fight. As the Frost Giant bore down on me, raising his maul into the air-” Loki could almost see the twisted metal glinting in the sunlight- “he fell, leaving nothing behind him but Loki. Thor shifted and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Loki started at the contact.

“My brother slew the monster with a single dagger, thrown directly into his spine.”  _ Monster. Just like you. _

Loki stood so fast his chair clattered to the floor. He did not pick it up. Storming out of the bar into the dark street, he tried to calm his breathing. It was too fast. Everything was too fast. He had to stop. He had to get his  **mind** to stop. His nightmares were flashing before his eyes-

“Brother.” It was Thor. He’d come outside, unaccompanied by his new mortal friends. The door to the bar swung shut behind him, cutting off the noise from within and leaving the street in silence once more.

“Go back inside, Thor.” He cursed the tremor in his voice. He was still breathing too hard. His thoughts were still too jumbled, shattered and messy like a thousand mismatched puzzle pieces being shaken in a jar.

“I did not mean to upset you,” Thor began. “If you wanted to tell that story I-”

“No Thor. I do not want to tell  **that** story. I don't even want to hear it.”

“Why? You dislike the Jotuns as much as I.”  _ Yes, that’s the point. _ Loki stayed quiet, finally getting his breathing to return to normal.

“Jane, Darcy and Erik seemed to be enjoying the tale.” Of course they were. Of course Thor’s petty mortal friends were amused by it. They adored Thor.  _ That’s the point isn’t it? He doesn’t have you around to show everyone how great he is, so he got them. He doesn’t need you now. No one needs you. _

Thor was still talking. Loki rounded on him, a snarl growing in his throat. He was so  **done** with Thor, with his friends, with his pompous blustering and ability to be liked by anyone while he himself had to struggle and cheat and  **lie** .

“-I’m sure they would enjoy your version if-”

“Oh  _ shut up _ Thor. Could you even for a minute stop trying to lord over everyone how great you are? How mighty? How perfect your views of right and wrong and your sense of justice is?”

“Loki I didn’t mean to offend.” Loki laughed at that. He was too tired for this. He was cracking. He needed to stop before he said something he’d regret.

“Oh _of course_ you didn’t Thor. You always think you’re doing the right thing. ‘A king can’t be guilty of doing wrongs.’ ‘A  **king** must remain separate from his people, must neutralize all  **threats** to his kingdom.’” They were words Thor had said often in the years leading up to his coronation, in the years Odin and the court nobles had been preening him for the throne.

“Brother I do not understand.”

“ **Don’t** call me that,” he spat. “I’m not your brother Thor. I never was. I was never even your equal no matter how much I wanted to be, how much I  **tried** .” Thor staring at him, concerned, shocked.

“What do you mean?”

Loki made some noise between a roar and a cackle, tired of questions, tired of explaining, tired of secrets. He thrust his hands forward and pressed his fingertips to Thor’s temples, hurling the tidal wave of memories that had been haunting him for weeks into the Thunderer’s mind: the conversation in the Vault, the story of Rinda, the confrontation with Laufey and the memories he’d taken then.

He pulled away an instant later. The horror and confusion prominent on Thor’s face did not feel as good as he’d thought it would. It felt hollow, wrong. But he could not take that back. He could not change the past, so he wouldn’t try.

“Don’t you see now? I was never your family. I was never anything more than Laufey’s bastard, Odin’s war prize,” he said, turning and strutting back up the street. Thor did not follow him. He could not decide if he was comforted of hurt by that fact.

 

When he finally stopped walking, it took him a moment to realize he was back behind the dwelling of Thor’s mortal friends. He sighed. He was utterly spent, and he knew he was going to regret what he’d done in the morning. Maybe Thor would forget.  _ Unlikely _ . Even if he didn’t have his powers Thor still seemed to be able to drink like an ox.

Loki settled down with his back up against the boulders, putting them between himself and the building. It was quiet out here, a different kind of quiet than Asgard. No hum of skiffs floating by below the balconies. No distant thunder of the sea that poured off into the abyss. Here there was just the faint whisper of wind and the occasional calls of the animals that made this desert home.

He looked up at the stars. They weren’t his stars, but perhaps that was better. He relaxed against the cool stone. For the first time in days, his thoughts were still. He felt his eyes drooping closed. He was so tired. He didn’t care if Thor decided to smite him in the morning or if he didn’t. Loki was just happy everything was, for the moment, peaceful.


	12. Lucky Interruptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone (kinda long time no see huh?). I am sorry this chapter took a little while to get out, but as a warning for the future, this will happen from time to time, especially during my breaks. I run nonstop during by school semesters and when I get days off I just want to relax. It certainly didn't help that I could not for the life of me get this chapter to sound right the first few times around. I still don't think its perfect but if I keep messing with it I'm afraid I'll just make it worse.
> 
> So, here ya go. I hope you enjoy and please don't be afraid to tell me what you think in the comments!
> 
> Also, shout out to charles123 for even vaguely alluding to this little trashfire in the comments of the beautiful epic that is The Convalescent Way! (It inspired me to sit down and take a crack at this chapter again which really helped move it along...after I stopped screaming)

Loki woke from a doze at the break of dawn. He’d slept peacefully through the whole night - that alone was surprising. What was even more so was the fact that Thor had not come barreling after him yet. He brushed off the layer of dust that had gathered on his clothes but did not rise. He didn’t want to, didn’t see a point in it. He knew what was coming to him would arrive soon enough.

He passed the time quietly, watching the sunrise and reveling in how quiet his scattered mind seemed to be. The hurricane of darkness was still there, churning and flashing, but seemed far away, subdued. It was almost as if he was watching those thoughts flash and broil from a boat much farther out at sea, where the waters were still calm and the sun was still shining. He knew, of course, the storm would arrive at some point. One could not hold off nature forever.

Not long after dawn, Loki heard the back door to the building open and close, then the sound of familiar heavy footsteps coming up beside his resting place. Thor did not approach.  _ Waiting for you to make the first move, to make your stand or flee like a coward. _ Out of the corner of his eye Loki could see his - was Thor still his brother? He couldn’t decide. He stood and turned to face the Thunderer. The instincts that would in all other cases be telling him to flee his fate were still buried beneath the storm.

Thor, to Loki’s shock, looked terrible. This was not the Asgardian prince Loki had come to know in the last decade. However much Thor was attempting to hide it, guilt and exhaustion plagued his features. Loki wondered if Thor had slept at all the previous night, but could not find his voice to question the Thunderer about it. They stared at each other in silence as the wind kicked up clouds of dust around their feet.

Loki had been expecting rage, fury, the default states for Thor. Loki had not been expecting silence, or such profound humility and hurt. He attempted to scold himself for his shortsightedness, but found he could not. He was stuck in a loop as Thor worked his jaw, worked up the will to speak.

Thor swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

That was it. No complications. No fanfare. Just two simple words. Loki was surprised by how much - and how little - they meant to him. Did Thor really think he could make things better with that? No matter how much the sentiment meant to him, Thor had apologized for things before, apologies that had been weak and hollow because Thor had not understood what he had done to warrant them. Loki had made the mistake of accepting those half-measures before. He wouldn’t do so this time.

“Words don’t undo wrongs,” he said, “no more than a whispering breeze fixes a crumbling castle.”

“I know they don’t, but  I know it’s a start, brother,” he said, taking a step closer. Loki reflexively stepped backward. Thor froze. He looked heartbroken. Loki shifted his gaze to focus on the ground.

“You are my brother,” Thor said, raising his hands palms up towards Loki. “You must know this. I swear I mean you no harm.” Loki had to fight the urge to back away again. His heart was hammering in his chest; there was something vaguely ironic about that.

“I don’t think the truth of our familial relationship is up for debate, and I will not accept that oath until you convince me that what you say is the truth.”  _ Empty words coming from a Liesmith.  _ The storm had returned.

“Only if you will let me,” Thor said, reaching forward and grabbing Loki’s arm as the last of his resolve to remain still bled away. The grip was firm, but not painful. It anchored him. He looked up to meet Thor’s gaze.

It was not the same one Loki had seen on Asgard, forever blinded by burning rage or pomp. This gaze was mellowed, wiser, absent of the ‘righteous’ fury that had come to replace all caution and care in Thor’s heart as the day of his coronation neared.

For the first time since he’d done it, Loki was not proud of letting the Frost Giants into the castle, of causing Thor’s banishment. He knew, in the long run, that action was probably the only reason he was alive, the only reason he’d learned the truth of Odin’s past and his own. Yet, he was sorry he’d hurt Thor. Thor had been, no matter how much he could deny it, his brother. He could be sorry and not regretful; he could, perhaps, look for forge a new path to replace the old one.

“I-” He was cut off by an explosion from inside the building. Both Thor and Loki whipped their heads around to gaze through the windows, the latter grabbing onto Thor’s still outstretched arm as he jumped.

A moment later, Darcy threw open the door. A billowing cloud of smoke followed her outside. There was a fresh coffee stain on her shirt and she was rubbing her temples with one hand.

“Thor, you better get in here before your girlfriend blows us all sky high trying to contact Mars,” he said, heading back inside without another word. Loki could hear her muttering something about shopping on an intern’s budget and the severe lack of any good stores in the middle of the desert. Thor looked back at him, tightening his grip on Loki’s arm for a moment.

“We will finish this later,” he said before turning and heading inside. Loki almost laughed at himself in the silence. Of course. Of course Thor would end their conversation at the drop of a hat, would be naive enough to believe two little words could solve all of Loki’s problems. Thor had lost his rage, but was still as ignorant as always.

Perhaps, Loki thought, that was a good thing. If he didn’t understand everything Loki had shown him maybe he wouldn’t be too eager to actually finish their conversation. Loki knew he himself didn’t want to go back to it. He wanted Thor to choose - as he’d always chosen - one plan of action and stick to it. He wanted Thor to hate him. Didn’t he?

He sighed, realizing he no longer knew what he wanted. Thor was yet again the root of Loki’s problems, problems he wanted to be solved but didn’t want to address. At that, he really did start laughing. It was as if they were children again, Loki angry with Thor over some dispute that Thor didn’t recognize as a bigger issue and Loki getting all bent out of shape about it.

The train of thought did provide him a possible solution to his problems though. If he disappeared for a little while, even a few days, Thor would forget what Loki had shown him. Loki could the pop back to say his final goodbyes and return to Asgard, where at the very least his issues were predictable.

_ Could you though? Could the weak monster-prince leave behind his beloved brother? Could Asgard forget about its golden hero? Could its people ever truly accept a Frost Giant bastard as their king? _ He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. If he’d told Thor nothing of his problems, he wouldn’t be so confounded. If he’d kept quiet, those revelations could have been just another secret for him to bear.

But he’d told Thor, for reasons he couldn’t explain, and now he had to deal with the fallout. It still seemed odd to him that that fallout hadn’t been fury and storms and righteous vengeance. Perhaps Thor’s elegant approach would fade given time. Perhaps he’d go back to being predictable. Loki figured he would at least see what all the mortals’ fuss had been about before he left.

When Loki entered the main room, he found Thor waving what he recognized to be the front rug over a smoking computer. Jane stepped forward trying to pull bits of machinery out of the metal wreck. Erik and Dacy pulled her back. She huffed and ran a hand through her hair.

“This is all that stupid agent’s fault,” she raged, storming away from the broken computer as the smoke began to dwindle. “If those SHIELD asshole’s hadn’t come in here and taken everything I had, I wouldn’t have jerry-rigged old equipment that  **explodes** the minute I try to run a complex simulation!”

“Is it not at all possible to get it back?” Thor asked, throwing aside the scorched rug.

“You know the answer to that Thor,” she said. “You went charging in there and got captured. Darcy and I went to go talk to them and almost got arrested.”

“But those are not our only options now,” Thor said, and Loki’s stomach dropped as he realized where Thor was headed. “My brother could get your belongings back.”

Suddenly all eyes were on him and he was half ready to bolt. However, returning to Asgard would likely cause Thor to come asking after him. He’d beg Heimdall to open the Bifrost, and the guardian just might do it. Loki could not have the heap of problems that would cause on his plate. Instead, he would make the most of this opportunity, and he couldn't say he was not intrigued by the situation.

“Could you?” Jane asked. He shrugged in response and looked away.

“It’d be simple if they were locked up somewhere. Mortal security systems are woefully easy to bypass with the right spells.”

Jane ignored his mild insult - instead, going over to one of the computers that was still intact. She began typing furiously, going through folder after folder before pulling up a single image on the screen.

“This is all I could recover from the day they left,” she said, pushing the laptop towards him. “It’s a photo from the camera at the stoplight of the truck SHIELD used to take my stuff. The sheriff is a family friend and let me pull that. I know it’s grainy, but you might be able to get a license plate off of them, and if not I suppose we could…” She trailed off and looked to Thor, who seemed very troubled.

“Could what?” he questioned.

“She’s suggesting that you could go to the SHIELD base they set up several miles from here,” Erik answered. “That’s where that plate will lead you anyway. It appeared almost overnight a couple months ago, right about the time your brother landed here. He and Jane tried to break in once, and I risked my life and my entire reputation getting him back out of there. If you’re going. You’re going alone.” Loki was surprised by how firm the human was, but smiled nonetheless.

“Well we could at least give him a ride,” Jane said, causing Loki’s smile to drop from his face.

“That isn’t necessary. I can go out to the sight alone.”

“No it’s the least I can do. Even a few pieces of that equipment would be extraordinarily helpful, and you’re risking your neck to get it,” Jane said, turning away to grab a coat and a set of keys. “I’m not letting you walk all the way to the base.”

Loki fought not to roll his eyes, but before he knew it he was seated in the back of the woman’s large ungainly van, barreling down the dusty road towards the ‘secure’ facility. He guessed if it was any kind of secure the workers there would spot them coming from leagues away. Loki knew he’d have to keep track of their location in relation to the base and make sure he was dropped off far enough away that his cover would be immediately blown. That process was made difficult by Jane’s driving assistant.

Thor had insisted upon coming along and was seated in the front next to his mortal woman. He kept looking back at Loki every few seconds, which became increasingly irritating as the trip went on. At first, Loki ignored him sitting sideways in his seat and stretching his legs out across the car to the other unoccupied chair, but in his peripheral, he still noticed every look Thor sent his way.

Finally, he decided to glare Thor into stillness. He didn’t want to talk, and he wasn’t some wounded animal to be gawked at. He wasn’t Thor’s brother to feel petty sympathy for either. He was the ruling king of Asgard, the part Frost Giant stolen relic of a child with no real claim to the throne and no living relatives to speak of. He grimaced at the train of thought and forced his mind to abandon it, focusing instead on the rising sun as Thor’s mortal continued to drive them into the desert.

Once the stupid van and its occupants were behind him - lost in elongated rolling hills of the desert - he would be in his element. There’s be no pestering questions or questioners. It would just be him; he’d sneak into this Midgardian compound right under the noses of every mortal in it. That was something to look forward to, and it made the rest of the ride much more bearable.

 


	13. Rough Landings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey! I'm **not** dead! I know if kind of dropped off the radar after my last chapter but all of you kept leaving kudos and comments that lit up my inbox every few days and I felt like I owed ya'll some kind of update. My like if still totally crazy, with, graduation, senior thesis, and scholarship for next year in addition to a move coming up and ongoing right now, but the second-semester craze has calmed down and I really want to get this going before Infinity War Comes out (and I spend three days freaking out and considering if I should rewrite my plot for that arc).
> 
> Anyway, love ya'll SO MUCH and thank you for every kudo, comment, and read so far! <3

Dry desert winds felt like the farthest thing from home, but alone. in the desert, Loki was able to once again grab hold of the silence he found against the bolder under the mortal planet’s stars.

His first evening Loki spent wandering back and forth on the hills surrounding the base made in the crater. He knew it was unlikely that he’d be seen - he was by far skilled enough in stealth not to make such a simple mistake - but nonetheless, he kept himself hidden from mortal view and away from the fences and buildings. By night time though, he struck.

It seemed there was much less to the base than Loki had thought. The top two levels of the three-story tower were empty. The guard details around the compound and the few padlocked storage units outside was minimal at best. How could Thor have had such a difficult time muscling his way through the compound, even as a mortal?

His questions were answered by watching someone who have could possibly have been scientist observe recorded footage of Thor’s attack. He stood invisibly hunched over the woman going over the various camera angles of the event. The Thunderer hadn't had any real problems with the security detail. He had collapsed in defeat upon the realization that he was not worthy of the weapon he’d wielded all his long life. Loki felt a lump form in the back of his throat. He swallowed it and stepped back flush against the wall as a suited man with a prominent forehead and an air of authority stepped into the room.

“Transfer the files to the database and pack up those computers,” he said. “We’ve gotten all the data we need from here. A small detail will be left to monitor the object should anything unorthodox occur. You are being moved to the energy project. Boss says the Big Guy needs extra hands there.”

The woman nodded and closed the footage. Loki scowled. He hadn’t seen what happened after Thor broke down, but that was a question he could stand not having answered. The suited man intrigued Loki. He seemed to with certainty be in charge of the movement of people and objects in the base. Given that all the storage units were empty and Jane’s belongings hadn’t been anywhere among the remaining files and devices - she’d given him a very long list of things to look for on the car ride over - Loki figured following the suited man until he got an opportunity to take the information on the location of Jane’s things was his best bet.

He could, of course, take the information as the man made his way to a large transport car. Of course, then he wouldn’t be able to learn about this apparently important energy project the man was talking about, and where would the fun be in that?

 

The trip to the ‘energy project’ SHIELD was working on took much longer than Loki expected. He’d used a hawk-form shape-shifting cloak he’d nicked from one of Odin’s less protected vaults and used the bird’s form to make the day-long journey to the other base.

He could have taken the form on his own, but could not have held it for the entirety of the transport car’s slow trip through the desert. The cloak had been his saving grace. He was exceedingly glad he’d stashed it in one of his private extra-dimensional pockets, for even with its help he still ended his trip with an unsightly crash into the far side of a hill.

Loki rolled through the dust several times before coming to a halt and laying there with his eyes closed for several minutes as he tried to get his bearings. Every muscle in his body ached like he’d been thrown around by a giant or a pair of bilgesnipe, and he was sure he’d have bruises from the overexertion and rough landing for a few hours at least.

Loki pushed himself up into a sitting position. Dawn had started rising. Odd. Somehow he’d not taken notice of that. Still, there were better things to do than stare at the sky. He had done plenty of that of late.

The cloak was laying several feet away at the beginning of the trail of skid marks where he’d landed. He stood with a grimace and walked over to the garment. Some of its feathers had come out, but overall it was still in good shape. He placed it back in his magical storage space and turned to the skid marks. If shield had any kind of aerial surveillance in place, it was undoubted they’d be noticed, but that’s what magic was for.

After several attempts to simply snap and make the evidence of his presence disappear, Loki sighed and stepped to the end of his improvised runway. His hand facing out to the ground in front of him, he meticulously set the disturbed earth back to its previous state. It was a slow process, especially because he kept losing his focus every few minutes and found himself having gone several steps forwards and cleaning up none of his mess. It frustrated Loki to no end.

Finally, Loki had returned the last speck of dirt to its original state. He clambered up toward the top of the hill, setting an invisibility spell over himself as he walked. He stumbled several times on the looser patches of earth.

The view of the base from the tall hill would perfect for his strategic needs; one didn’t go waltzing into a base without observing it first unless you were Thor. Loki chuckled at the many memories of his aggressively gung-ho and fell face-first into the thin dirt. It was so funny that Thor wasn’t there to go storming in like an idiot, that for once he wasn’t breathing down Loki’s neck as he tried to formulate a plan. Really it was so funny that for the first time in a while Loki was all on his own in a task Thor wanted in on, all by himself…

  
  


“Loki.” A rough hand on his shoulder woke him and nearly made him jump out of his skin. In an instant, he was on his feet and there was a dagger in his hand. Why was he covered in dirt? When had it gotten so dark? How had he gotten here?

Loki turned around to face his presumed attacker. He saw none other than Thor and remembered the long flight and the ugly landing. He must have passed out on his way up and slept there till nightfall, or later.

Thor was looking at him and raising his hands in surrender. Loki vanished the dagger. He balled his fist in front of his pursed lips, blinked at the ground over the fact that of course Thor had found him right before he infiltrated what was apparently SHIELD’s most secure facility. He couldn’t go more than  **one** damn day on Earth without his brother showing up again, could he?

Thor stepped forward to look over the hill. “Loki what are you-”

“Be quiet you blithering oaf!” Loki hissed, pushed Thor back with one hand. Normally, the action would have only caused the Thunderer to pause. In Thor’s mortal state, the action sent him tumbling several feet down the slope. Loki gawked at him. He’d forgotten Thor had been made completely powerless, not just stripped of his lightning and hammer.

“Sorry,” Thor whispered, snapping Loki out of his trance. He stepped forward and offered a hand to help Thor up, signaling more gently for him to remain where he was. Thor nodded, and Loki crept back up the hill.

His gaze swept over the facility three times. No alarm had been raised during his involuntary nap. He beckoned Thor forward. The Thunderer seemed surprised at the apparent lack of security surrounding the large complex, but, taking slightly longer than Loki had, soon located the concealed military posts and statue-esque lookouts scattered around the unsuspecting buildings.

“How did you even find me?” Loki asked quietly, making a count of every possible entrance and beginning to rank them in order of plausibility. With Thor present there was more risk for capture, but Loki knew the Thunderer would not wait patiently outside while he collected the files, equipment, and information he had been sent after and was interested in for himself.

“Jane gave you a phone, remember?” Thor said in what was thankfully a whisper. “We tried calling you seven times over the past two days and you never answered, so Jane tracked your location to here, the middle of the Mojave Desert, and I came after you.” He paused. “What were you doing lying asleep in the sand?’

“Shut up Thor.” Loki had forgotten about the phone. He’d placed it on silent the moment he’d gotten it, planning on only calling when he was on the way back. He hadn’t thought to check for a tracking feature and cursed himself for his ignorance. He pulled the small device out of his pocket and started looking for a way to turn off the feature that ad gotten him found.

The guard on the roof of the largest building moved, and Loki’s snapped back up to the compound. A second guard had appeared from the roof access, heading toward the one that had left his post. The other guards on nearby roofs hadn’t moved, but Loki didn’t need to worry about them.

He stood, creeping over the top of the hill in a crouch and sliding down the loose earth on the other side with Thor in tow. The only had a few moments before Loki’s invisibility spell, cast on drained resources, would fail.

The moment his feet hit solid Earth, Loki broke into a dead sprint for a door under the temporarily empty guard-post. He bypassed the lock with a twist of his wrist and hauled Thor inside. The door, with another flick of Loki’s wrist, shut silently behind them.

 

They were in. It was time to find out what SHIELD’s ‘energy project’ was all about, and, perhaps, find the possessions of Thor’s mortal while they were there.


	14. Emergence and Resurgence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTENTION: Ya girl has a tumblr [here](https://thetopazvulpix.tumblr.com/) that you can reach me at now, so that's AWESOME!  
> Feel free to send me requests, questions, or even things of your own to read!  
> (I'll be posting updates on this fic, my life, and my obsessions)
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

The inside of the SHIELD complex was just as unsuspecting as it was from the outside, but Loki knew there was more there. He took a step down the hallways and immediately started falling backward. 

Thor caught him with a hand on his back. Loki steadied himself and straightened, shrugging Thor off. 

 “I’m fine. I don’t need your help,” he said, glancing about again and taking only another few steps forward before falling back into his brother again. “I’ll be fine in a minute.” Thor nodded, fighting to keep a smile from his face.

 

 

Little of the ground floor of the building could be explored.Some kind of evacuation efforts seemed to be in full swing so many areas were swarming with people. However, this chaos made other areas, like the access door to the basement, almost completely deserted. Loki popped the lock with a snap of his fingers and led the way down the narrow maintenance stairs.  

They were not built for two tall - and in Thor’s case wide and study - Asgardians.  The trip down was slow, and no matter house much Loki berated him for it, Thor would continue to mutter an odd mixture of Norse and English curses. At least for Loki’s case, he could use the time to build his strength back up before they reached the bottom floor. 

It was arena-sized, walls all made of smoothed stone or shining metal, and full of complicated technical machinery. Thor’s human would  probably  have a field day there.  She’d  certainly  fit right in with all the other academic-looking humans bustling around and taking orders from a man with dark curly hair and glasses. 

They all stopped mid-action when another man appeared in a long dark trench coat. Loki wished he’d thought to cast a listening spell as they exchanged a few tense words and stepped away.  There was something in a large metal device-set away from all the other machinery, that the coated man was examining.

Loki could feel the power radiating off the object along with its dim blue light. There was something very  obviously  outside normal human capacity going on here. He glanced around and found a ladder down.

“C’mon Thor, and for Norns’ sake keep quiet,” he whispered, tapping Thor’s shoulder to cast an invisibility spell over them both. He could only hope Thor would be able to keep quiet enough for himself to be able to investigate what this SHIELD agency was up to.

He couldn’t believe what he saw - and felt - when he reached the ground. The stories had all said Odin had hidden it on Earth, but he’d expected to find to counter to that in his secret library. He expected to find a note to the hidden vault where it  was kept. He had never expected to find the Tesseract on Earth in human hands. 

The mortal had no idea what they were dealing with, no idea what terrible ramifications their meddling with such a powerful artifact could have. They could destroy their realm, or they could open portals to new ones. He did not want to consider the dangers of doing that.

He  was stopped  short as the Tesseract  suddenly  exploded into a bubble of space, sanding the coated man flying. The bubble’s surface shifted for a moment. Loki feared it would explode and kill them all. 

Instead, it shrunk before sending out a wave of blue force. It buffeted Loki barely more than a strong wind but left the humans - and to some extent Thor - reeling. From where it originated knelt a blue-skinned woman. She was bald, with one gleaming silver metal arm. A bladed golden scepter was clutched tightly in her fist. 

“Thor,” Loki said slowly, not taking his eyes off the woman as she stepped down from the platform, picking up the Tesseract as she went. He could see she was familiar with the weapon, but not comfortable with its presence. “Do you remember what I said to you before your coronation?”

“I – yes,” Thor faltered. Loki could feel the Thunderer’s curious gaze burning into the back of his head. “What does it matter?” Loki turned to look at him and steadied his resolve.

“Don’t forget it.” 

 

He placed his hands on Thor’s shoulders and shoved him away towards the exit. It still felt unusual that he could overpower Thor without much effort. Yet Loki knew at that level of strength, there was no way his brother would be able to fight this woman. He’d die trying.

Summoning his daggers, Loki dropped his camouflage and shot towards the woman. A moment later he was rolling away in surprise. Her scepter could shoot cobalt blasts of energy. 

He heard the first shot crash into machinery behind him and answered it with a knife. She’d stored the Tesseract in a case at her hip. There was nothing slowing her offensive maneuvers. He did not escape her second energy blast. 

White hot fire blossomed across his chest, searing his armor. The metal stayed heated and pressed into his skin as if trying to set him aflame. He masked his whine of pain with a growl. He had to reach close combat range. His magic couldn’t protect him from more attacks like that. He had to focus on channeling it into the invisibility spell for Thor. 

He ducked under the swipe aimed at his neck, only to  be butted  in the nose with the blunt end of the spear. The fact that the weapon could change forms was something he hadn’t expected. 

He felt blood drip down his nose and spun his daggers into a backhand grip. It was time to go on the offensive. He could keep her wide swings at bay with parries.

What he couldn’t do was get close enough to stab all the way into an organ or disable one of her limbs.  Strike after strike hit, his daggers dancing their way across her flesh but doing no serious damage.

Finally landing a solid blow deep into her shoulder, he met her eyes and smirked. That was when the butt of the spear came crashing into his face again. The blow sent him reeling. He tasted blood and stumbled backward as his teeth twisted back into place.

His legs hit something in his retreat and he fell. The back of his head cracked against the floor and he saw spots in his vision. When had he gotten so sloppy in his fighting? _You spent so much time preparing Asgard for a fight, you forgot to prepare yourself._

Ah, that was it. He almost chuckled as he watched the woman stalk towards him. She paused, lifted the spear. The blade  hovered  a few inches above his face. An arrow raced into view and knocked the spear from her hand.

Loki only caught a glimpse of its dispatcher, a blonde man who was helping the trench-coated man and the various scientists escape the room. He nodded to Loki before disappearing through a metal door.

The metallic arrowhead began to glow. Loki rolled backwards. The projectile exploded as he pushed himself to his feet. Out of the smoke sprinted the woman, unharmed. The broken arrow was gripped tightly in her fist. He felt how sharp it was as she dug into his torso. Loki immediately threw his hands up to stop its progress. One gripped the broken arrow shaft to keep the woman from digging it in further. He pressed his other forearm into her chest in an attempt to push her away.

It was a losing battle. He didn’t have a solid grip on the arrow and couldn’t take the time to readjust without her impaling him. Her other hand on his shoulder pulled him closer and closer as they struggled. Then he felt his invisibility spell break.

Thor was at her back, hammering away with his fists. Loki didn’t have time to warn him as the woman rolled her eyes and threw her leg up to kick him in the chest. The blow sent Thor flying across the room like a ragdoll.  Loki screamed in protest, giving his opponent the opportunity she needed to drive the arrow through his torso.

 

He’d  been stabbed  before, but he’d forgotten how much it hurt. He took a short breath, relaxing his muscles as much as he could before he pulled the arrow from his chest.  The action left him kneeling, clutching his broken sternum to stop the bleeding as much as possible. He would heal, if he made it out of this situation alive.

The woman chuckled as she stepped toward him again and raised the spear. He doubted his chest would be much of a concern for him in a few moments. Then the world went white and his hair stood on end. 

Thor stood, returned to his full might and wielding Mjolnir as proudly as ever. He hurled the weapon forward, knocking the woman into the scientists’ machinery. Then he turned to Loki and pulled him to his feet.

“You alright?” he asked, calling his hammer back to him with his other hand. Loki swallowed. He tried to keep himself from glancing at the hammer nervously.

“Stop fussing over me like Eir. I’m fine,” Loki huffed. With Thor’s invisibility spell gone, he was able to at least stop the bleeding and clean off his armor. That would more than likely keep Thor off his back for a little while longer.

“You two should  really  learn to follow your enemies,” the woman’s voice sounded from the crumpled tech in the back of the room. “Too bad you’ll be dead before you’ll learn that lesson.” She stepped out from the shadows followed by the curly-haired scientist. His glasses were gone and he seemed  eerily  calm, like a predator about to strike.

Loki’d always had good instincts about when to flee a bad situation.  As he started looking for exits, he noticed that the wave of blue energy that had engulfed the room before had begun to form a new sphere in the ceiling of the room. It was pulsing. Waves of power buffeted the surrounding stone, beginning to form cracks in the material. 

He turned back to Thor and said, “We need to leave,” as the scientist’s form exploded outwards into an  entirely  new beast. It was massive, green, and  absolutely  furious. 

The monster charged into the brothers. Loki managed to roll out of the way but Thor took the full brunt of the attack, rolling away with the beast. The pair began a brutal wrestling match the kept shifting around the room.  

 

 

 

Loki himself resumed his long-distance combat with the blue woman. He’d seen how deadly she could be at close range. Having a weapon that could change forms only made hand-to-hand combat even harder. Thus, the pair of them dancing around the room and keeping away from their more violent companions.

 

 

The entire time, Loki looked for an opportunity to leave. He saw how destabled the ceiling was becoming as he danced around energy blasts, but couldn’t find a good opportunity to flee with Thor. There were several moments where he alone could have escaped. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave Thor.  

“Dammit,” he hissed, forcing the woman to suck behind a pillar with a well-thrown dagger. She reappeared a moment later. There was the fifth escape opportunity gone. A crack appeared in the ceiling.

"Thor!” he shouted, “We need to go. Now!” He dived under a pipe as another bolt from the scepter whizzed over his head. He doubted Thor would listen. He hadn’t on Jotunheim. Loki heard the ceiling crack again. 

He huffed and rolled to avoid an energy blast. He came up in a crouch and launched another knife at her torso. It  was joined  this time by a vein of white-hot electricity. The bolt launched the woman into the wall behind her.

Thor crashed to the ground next to Loki and asked, “So, what’s your plan for getting out of this one?”  He was breathing  heavily  and bleeding but his once-trademark crazed battle grin was gone. That was a small comfort.

Loki rolled his eyes at Thor’s assumption that he had a plan (He did have one; it was  just  irritating that Thor _knew_ he had one) but answered, “If you made that exit more accessible.” He gestured to the maintenance level they’d come down on. “I’ll buy you some time.”

Thor nodded and launched himself into the air. A moment later Loki heard the screeching of tearing metal.  He could only hope Thor would get finished before they were all crushed to death as he summoned a new set of daggers to face his two opponents with.

 

It was a very stupid plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you learn why the working title I have for this fic is "MCU Shit Gets Real" cause we are getting INTO the massive list of changes I've made to the original movieverse. (I also couldn't totally get the formatting to stay in m earlier previews, so hopefully, the paragraph breaks are all in the right place now.)
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!


	15. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good LORD this chapter took forever to write, but that on me (sorry guys!). I am, for future reference adding the slow updates tag to this because I honestly have no idea what my schedule is gonna be like in the future.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and (hopefully) commenting!

The first thing you had to figure out if you wanted to win a fight is how to cheat. It was something Loki had learned from a very young age. The other thing he had learned well was how to read people, and, if the massive green beast rising to its feet in the corner could be called a person, he was an obscenely easy target.

Loki had a plan. It was a stupid and reckless and half-formed plan, but it was the only one he had. And in any event, weren’t all his plans like that to some extent? The woman coughed behind him, already recovering. Let the game begin.

He summoned a discarded dagger to his hand. The serrated metal glimmered in the swirling blue light as he spun and sent it shooting across the room into the shoulder of the beast. He heard it roar as he turned back to his other opponent.

“You keep coming back for more,” she said, rising to her feet and wiping the blood from her lip. Loki stepped to the right, forcing her to do the same to avoid being flanked. She continued to speak as they circled each other.

“Without your brawny friend you must be waiting for a death sentence.” She chuckled. “Pity, I never like fighting cowards.”

“How do you mean?” he asked, twirling the twin of the serrated blade in one hand. He was sure to make the metal flash like a beacon for the monster rising up out of the rubble and pulling the first knife from its shoulder.

“Suicide is the coward’s way out.” He let his lips split into a feral grin, teeth bared. She laughed: dry, disbelieving. It helped cover the sound of approaching footsteps.

“You really expect me to-” The taunt ended abruptly as the beast hit her like a train from behind. Loki barely managed to roll out of the way.

He rose immediately, ignoring how the woman launched the beast off her with a scream of fury and instead focusing on his mad dash towards the exit. Blue energy shots flew past him and over his head as he scrambled up the stairs.

Thor was already at the door, twisting an overhanging metal pipe out of the way. Loki didn’t even spare time for a greeting as he barreled into the Thunderer.

The door hinges gave way for them both with a shriek. They found themselves back in the main building, but there was still the danger of the collapsed portal looming. They hauled themselves to their feet and sprinted for the exit, but they were not the only ones doing so. Several dozen humans appeared from an intersecting hallway. They were not dressed in lab coats or suits like the Shield members Loki had seen. They were regular humans. Thor and Loki could not be noticed among them.

Loki reached over to Thor and cast an illusion over them both. It was something Thor rarely allowed him to do. He often thought Loki’s magic dishonorable, but this time there was no disagreement, just a simple nod of thanks as the brothers merged with the back of the crowd of fleeing civilians. They were almost to the doors.

The ground shook. Parts of the building were beginning to collapse around them. Loki was infinitely grateful they were no longer right below the portal. Yet that didn’t spare them from the Tesseract's lingering wrath.

Chunks of ceiling tile and parts of the roof crashed to the ground all around the group. The humans screamed, scrambling away from the exit door that was now well-blocked by debris. Loki turned to Thor. His brother was already smiling at him, holding his camouflaged hammer at the ready.

Loki huffed in amusement and dropped the illusion around them both. Thor immediately went to work on the rubble, smashing through the chunks of building material with reckless abandon. Loki rolled his eyes and observed, redirecting stray projectiles whenever they flew too close to the crowd of civilians now huddling several feet behind them.

The building rumbled again. Loki managed to haul Thor back by his cape as more of the ceiling fell in. It was unlikely the Thunderer would have been hurt, but Loki found himself realizing he didn’t want to take that chance. He didn’t let Thor go charging back into the rubble. Instead, he nudged Thor to the side and raised his hands.

The pile of the debris, and the doors themselves, exploded outward. Thor immediately began herding the humans outside to safety. Loki stood by as they brushed past him. He was examining his hands, turning them over again and again and flexing his fingers. It had been a while since he’d cast a spell of that power - drawing on the deeper reserves of his magic for something other than keeping himself awake and focused, as he had been lately. He didn’t look up until Thor started pulling him out of the building.

“The humans will be safe,” Thor said, watching the crowd scatter into smaller groups, most of them still glancing back at the two Asgardians warriors still standing by the doors. “They have vehicles to gather in that will carry them to safety. We should be making our way to a more secure location as well. Jane will be worrying and-”

“I, appreciate your concern, Thor, but I have some matters I need to attend to.” He held up the phone Erik had given him. “I’ll still be in contact. I just, I need some time to sort through some things, as I said.”

Thor seemed disappointed but agreed all the same. “Alright then. Don’t be too reclusive though. Else I’ll have to come after you again.” He finished with a laugh. Loki huffed in amusement in return, before turning on his heel and casting a teleportation spell.

  


The flash of green light in the darkened room was the only announcement of his presence. Loki immediately took stock of his surroundings. It had been decades since he’d visited this dwelling: his own little escape from Asgard. It was a simple, sprawling home in the mountains outside of an area the humans called ‘Hollywood’. There were three bedrooms - more than he needed - and the four bathrooms, with two sitting areas and an office he’d made use of on a few occasions. The building had been kept well-maintained since his last visit thanks to a series of spells he’d left behind.

He stepped out into the courtyard, running a hand over the decorative landscaping to make sure the magic he’d set up outside was still working. There was something special about this house, something that reminded him of Asgard but still kept a distinctly human style with its bright white walls and large outdoor deck areas made for someone who liked to entertain. The irony of that - given that Loki had made sure no humans had ever visited his Midgardian sanctuary- was perhaps one of his favorite things about the home.

He stepped back inside, making not of the spells that would need to be redone in the near future. There wasn’t enough energy to spare for that now. He’d been pulling on his reserves for most of the fight. He’d had the benefit of rest on his side, but one night's sleep after an exhausting day and no food had not provided a bountiful well of stamina.

Loki sighed and wiped his face. There were things he needed to take care of before he rested, but most of them could be resolved with a single conversation. He pulled a loaf of bread and a jar of some kind of jam from the cupboards in his kitchen - both relics from a trip to Vanaheim - and stepped into his office.

“Heimdall,” he said, taking a bite of the covered loaf. A moment later he was standing on the Bifrost, its guardian a resolute statue upon it as always.

“Your trip seems to have taken quite the interesting turn.” Loki actually laughed at that, nearly choking on his slice of bread.

“I assume you saw everything then?”

“I did not, but I would like to hear your recollection of events if you’d mind sharing them.” Loki sighed and leaned back against the wall.

“Fine. I do hope you’re in for a bit of a tale.”

“Those are your specialty.”

  


Loki left out some of the details of his and Thor’s encounter, partly because he was still trying to process a few things himself. He was exceptionally grateful for the peace of his dwelling when morning came. It allowed him to go about his morning without the movement and chatter of Thor and his friends. Loki had been happy to be working with his brother again, and even accepted that he was calling Thor that. He didn’t want to fall back into old routines.

He’d spent too long in Thor’s shadow. He would not go back to that. He would, however, have to share with Thor what he had learned or their half-sister, of the Titan who was hunting the Tesseract and relics like it scattered throughout the Nine Realms. It was not a conversation he was looking forward to.

Loki was contemplating how and when to at least begin to give Thor the details of the threats that would be coming for Asgard someday - he’d been glad to hear from Heimdall that Sif was whipping the Einherjar into shape for when that day arrived - when a knock on his door made him look up from his breakfast. No one knew he had gone here, not even Thor. There were no maintenance workers that ever visited the place. Loki kept it all running via spellwork. Whoever had decided to pay him a visit, though, they didn’t seem to be looking for a fight.

He picked up his coffee and headed for the door, summoning a dagger into the back pocket of his trousers. As he reached for the handle he readied himself to bring on his armor, though he in no way felt ready for another fight.

To his surprise though, the person standing at the door was none other than the SHIELD agent that had been in charge of Jane’s belongings. Loki suddenly remembered his promise to retrieve them and felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that they were now almost certainly lost. He’d seen the news about the ‘earthquake’ that had taken out a research facility in the desert the night before.

“Good morning,” the man began, “I’m Agent Coulson.”

“Of SHIELD,” Loki interjected, taking a sip of his coffee and doing a quick sweep of Coulson’s surrounding to see if there was anyone else with him.

“I came alone, and I just want to talk,” Coulson said with a small smile. “We have footage of your involvement in the events that occurred last night and we’d like to bring you in to talk. Your brother has already agreed to our request and is being brought to our base as we speak.”

“I’m assuming that if I do not comply you plan to take me there by force?” Loki asked, holding up a hand when Coulson started to reply. “Don’t lie to me. I do not, however, wish to get into any more squabbles with your organization.” Loki didn’t doubt SHIELD could be incredibly irritating for him if spent any more time on Earth. They’d found his hideout despite it being completely off record, and had already figured that he and Thor were related, meaning they knew who he was. Though he couldn’t necessarily give them credit for that; Thor was not the most tight-lipped person.

He sighed and drained the last of his coffee. “Fine, take me to your leader. You have 24 hours before I decide whether this is worth my time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah I went with the common idea that "Loki has hideout(s) on Earth" but I feel like that would be in character for him. He found secret passages between realms all on his own so it makes sense that he'd have a few hideouts in various places in case he needed to make one of his escapades a longer stay.  
> Hope you enjoying it all though! I'm just happy Coulson finally has a name!


	16. Associates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeey ya'll! So this chapter came out earlier than expected (which is lovely). I'm finally getting back to about 2000 words per chapter (my goal) which is great as well.  
> I also have a beta now - shoutout to phanroque on tumblr - which is PHENOMENAL.
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you all enjoy and feel free to feel me what you think!

Loki had the give this Agent Coulson come credit. The man had done his research. The moment Loki had left his haven, he’d been escorted to an aircraft hidden on a dead-end road. It had been invisible when they approached it, camouflaged with some kind of Midgardian technology, but Loki had seen clean through the illusion. It was his specialty. He also didn’t miss the wary look Coulson had given him as he’d actually boarded an invisible ship.

“There are a few others we’re bringing in for this situation,” Coulson said as they took their seats. “We’d like you to be informed about them before our arrival.” He handed Loki a thick folder that, when opened, contained to-the-point SHIELD profiles of each person he’d be forced to meet. He didn’t doubt there were infinitely more in-depth profiles hidden away in some SHIELD database.

“I’d like to see the files for Thor and myself as well. They’re not included in this packet,” he said, flipping the page of the file and recognizing the archer that had been at the SHIELD facility the previous night. He was reminded of how recent those events were as Coulson stood to retrieve the papers.

His conversation with Heimdall, which had spiraled out to the state of Asgard and the politics proceeding there, had lasted a few hours at least, and it had already been a late hour when Loki had arrived at his haven. He suddenly wished he cut his time with Heimdall short in favor of more sleep. He had a feeling the next few days were going to be very long ones.

The agent’s return broke Loki out of his thoughts. “We didn’t include these files because we knew you’d have more information on the topics than we have,” he said, handing the two sheets to Loki. He smiled in return.

“Well, call me curious,” he said, adding the two papers to the back of the file and crossing his legs to rest his ankle on his opposite knee. The position allowed him to spread the folder out better and burn through the rest of the profiles at, according to Coulson, and ‘alarming pace.’ He had been finished for several minutes by the time their destination came into view and had formed quite complete opinions of all of the ‘others’ that had been or were being brought in.

Tony Stark was intelligent and resourceful - in what would be either an amusing or completely infuriating way. Steven Rogers was a by the books soldier; there’d, of course, be much more to him than on SHIELD’s files. The two actual SHIELD agents were very familiar but undoubtedly dangerous in their own ways.

Their aircraft was approaching a massive ship, sitting completely alone in the water. The other nearby vessels seemed to be giving it a wide berth, while Loki simply wanted to get closer. The long decks matched the designs of military ships he’d researched, but there were small variations that made Loki suspicious about the true function of the vessel. He would have to look into it further once he was onboard, but that plan was put on hold when he noticed a person waiting for them as they disembarked their aircraft: the archer from the facility - Barton, as he’d learned.

“Not too often we get a god on our radar. Your brother caused quite a fuss at the outpost I was stationed at a while back. He didn’t get back his hammer that time but it seems like he’s lifting it with no problems now isn’t he?” Loki’s nose twitched at the fact that his brother was the first thing the man had talked to him about, but he didn’t miss that Barton was speaking from a place of distrust. Loki was, however, interested in getting the rest of the details on Thor’s foray into the SHIELD base. The encounter _had_ led him to getting involved in the current debacle in the first place.

“Yes, you’ll have to tell me all about that event. Thor has been...lacking in the details,” he said, vanishing the file to one of his interdimensional pockets as he stepped out onto the deck of the ship. He knew there was something he was missing, but when he turned to begin an inspection of the deck, he was halted upon noticing three figures heading in his direction.

They were Selvig - which surprised Loki to an extent - another SHIELD agent he’d likely be ‘working’ with, and Thor. He turned toward the entrance to the ship in the hopes of delaying the headache they’d cause for as long a possible. Coulson had already headed that direction and was just far enough ahead that Loki didn’t have to make conversation.

He did have to keep up small talk with Barton, who had decided to accompany Loki inside - small talk that stopped when an alarm sounded and the whole ship shuddered. Loki stepped back to balance himself and looked outside for signs of alarm, but none of the workers outside seemed at all perturbed by the motion.

He turned back to Barton, absolutely certain the sudden motion had to do with the abnormality of the ship and hissed, “What is happening here?”

Barton smiled and waved Loki after himself, leading the way down several flights of stair towards the main body of the ship. It jostled several more times as they walked, and Loki head the district noise of some kind of engine starting up. His patience had run this and he was ready to stop Barton to demand answers when Barton keyed open the door to their final location.

The sight was such that Loki forgot to ask unimpressed for several seconds. The airship the human had constructed - though archaic in technology - did have an impressive command room that, as he examined it further, gave the impression of elegance and organization. He had to admit it was a fitting base for a secret intelligence organization. It even-

“Loki!” The cry and the rough clap on his back from Thor jostled Loki’s thoughts. He stepped out of arm's reach before Thor could attempt anything else and shot a glare at his brother.

“Thor, it’s not like I dropped out of existence last night,” he said, adding in a softer tone, “and in the future you might want to be more careful with what information you give to a spy organization who held you hostage and, until recently, was experimenting with the an infinity stone.”

“The Tesseract?” Thor said, dumbfounded by the realization. “I’d forgotten what its true form was…”

“That’s because you never bothered with your history lessons beyond seeing how many books you make disappear before Mimir noticed you’d pilfered his entire library.”

Thor’s reply was cut off by Coulson, as a new figure stepped into the room. “Gentlemen, Nick Fury. Director of SHIELD,” he introduced as Fury moved towards the brothers. Loki recognized him from the previous night as well. Barton had been aiding his escape.

“If you have information on the Tesseract, it needs to be common knowledge,” he said. Loki wondered if his voice had any other tone than stern. Adding the eyepatch, Fury reminded Loki of The Old Man. It did not endear the director to him.

“It is nothing you do not already know,” Loki said, holding a hand up to Thor to stop him from revealing anything. The Tesseract belonged on Asgard, for from where the humans could meddle with it, and Loki had a feeling that if the humans came to understand what power it truly held, they would not give it up without a fight. Another war was the last thing he needed.

“As when understand it, you are the God of Mischief and Lies. I’m not inclined to trust anything you say. I’d suggest you don’t test my patience,” Fury said. Loki’s lip curled in contempt.

“Of course you’d be inclined to trust those titles, but it seems Thor forgot to tell you one when you manipulated information about us out of him- ” He stepped forward so he and Fury were almost nose-to-nose, his smirk twisting into a wide, toothy smile. “-King of Asgard... I’d suggest you don’t you don’t threaten a monarch.”

“Woah, ladies, get a room won’t you?” came a voice from the door. Loki turned a recognized the ostentatious speaker immediately: Stark. He was accompanied by Rogers and agent Romanoff, whom Fury immediately went to speak to after giving Loki one last warning glare. Loki grinned back.

After speaking to Agent Romanoff for several minutes, Fury had left with the woman who’d accompanied Thor and Selvig inside the ship. Agent Hill, he been informed, as if he cared. What he did care about was that Stark, Rogers, and Romanoff had brought in Nebula.

##    


Information on their captive didn’t come back for hours after her arrival. Despite Stark continuing to pester Loki for information on the Tesseract - ‘It’s for research’ he’d claimed indignantly after one of Loki’s more insulting comebacks - things were quiet in the SHIELD helicarrier. The atmosphere made them all uncomfortable.

While Thor made conversation with Selvig and the others, Loki kept to himself. He brooded over their encounter with Nebula, and wished that he hadn’t agreed to keep his weapons away when Fury had left. It was difficult to plan when he had nothing to do with his hands. Twirling a blade between his fingers had always been a pleasantly repetitive action that gave off the proper air of ‘do not disturb’ when he needed to think. He settled on using a pen instead of a knife. It could still be lethal with enough force.

Finally, when he started to consider testing how the writing implement could be used as a weapon on Stark, Director Fury enter the room. He was followed by Agent Hill, who had a clipboard in her hands and a grim expression set into her face.

“She has an army. They’re coming to, as she said ‘wipe us off the planet’ sometime soon,” Hill said, chewing her lip for a moment before continuing. “She wouldn’t give up any more information than that so we had to resort to..other methods.”

“Torture,” Steve huffed out, sounding not at all pleased.

“I doubt she’d call it that. She’s completely resistant to anything we can come up with. Her body is more machine than human so physical stimulus doesn’t have much of an effect and her tolerance for any kind of medication we’ve tried is off the charts,” Hill said, dropping the clipboard down on the table. Everyone in the room shifted, eyes darting to one another and arms crossing.

If Nebula wouldn’t give an answer about where her army was coming from and when, the entirety of Midgard was ripe for conquest. At the level of Earth’s technology, nearly any army from the wider reaches of the universe would be more than a match for them. Nebula’s soldiers would have a quarter of the planet conquered in a matter of hours. Coming to the rescue at that point would be too late.

“What about temperature variation?” Natasha asked.

Hill shook her head. “Even at the most extreme levels we could get, she was able to shrug it off. The man who turned a blowtorch on her almost lost an eye when she started fighting back.” Loki stared down at his hands. He heard the others still talking, trying to come up with ideas. Their plans wouldn’t work. Nebula was from somewhere far more advanced than Earth. Only another being from a realm of similar advancement could even touch her.

“What about Loki?” Thor said, causing all eyes in the room to turn to the Thunderer. “Surely he would be able to do it. My brother has tricks that are incredibly more powerful than Midgardian technology.”

Loki didn’t respond as the collective gaze of the room turned upon him. He was too busy trying not to stab Thor then and there. He may have become wiser in his time spent on Earth, but he was still casually degrading Loki the same as he had done for hundreds of years. Loki was also not happy that Thor had come to the exact same conclusions he had.

But, on the other hand, he could get the answers they needed. His stomach dropped as his mind presented him with a fully-formed plan. SHIELD wasn’t going to like how he was going to do it - and neither was he - but they’d apparently tried all manner or horrid things on her already. He clenched his jaw and let a slow breath out through his nose as he met Fury’s gaze.

“I would be able to probe her mind for the information you seek, yes.” He ignored the several disgusted and horrified looks sent his way. “I would have to be in physical contact with her to do it though, and if she’s being protected by enchantments or, in an unlikely case, is familiar with sorcery herself, it will be exceedingly more difficult or altogether impossible to get into her head, unless…”

He trailed off, swallowed, and avoided eye contact with everyone in the room as he said, “You mentioned she was somewhat responsive to cold?”


	17. The Truth Will Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll I've had a shit day so you get this chapter a day early. I'm leaving for several days at the end of the week with minimal access to the internet so the next chapter may be a bit delayed but I'm trying to get on a weekly or bi-weekly update schedule.
> 
> Hope you like it and don't hesitate to tell me what you think!

Nebula looked surprisingly well, given her situation. Every one of her limbs was bolted down to a chair and a large metal band across her waist held her still. She was smiling - that unnerving animalistic grin that made her black eyes sparkle with contempt.

Hill had not entered the room with him, and he’d neglected manifesting his full armor. He figured coming alone in only a casual attire would throw her off. The others were likely watching through the glass wall - every other surface in the room was blank and slate gray - but for the moment he convinced himself he was alone with Nebula.

“Please. Tell me you’re going to try to appeal to my humanity,” she jeered. Loki ignored her, rolling up his sleeves and taking a deep breath. He was sent - no, came here to get answers, and that was exactly what he was going to do. In and out; no problem.

He called on his magic, willing his second-skin to surface. It came slowly, sliding up his arms and torso and threatening to suffocate him. It still felt off, still felt wrong. _So wrong you can’t believe that this is your heritage? That this is your blood that of this monstrous_ -

He clenched his teeth. This wasn’t wrong. This was a part of him. He’d come to accept that - sort of. And besides, he needed the abilities the form granted him.

“Grown so fond of my color you decided to try it on for yourself?” She chuckled. “It isn’t a good fit for you. You should go back to your pale, pathetic little- “

“Silence,” he hissed, flicking open his blood-red eyes. She wasn’t in control. He was. She was small and cruel and **beneath** him. He was a prince, a king. He could do this. He **would** do this. He leaned forward, letting his face stop inches from hers, just out of biting distance. He was more clever than that.

“They say you don’t feel pain, that you’re immune to drugs and weaponry.” He smirked. He had to show her he was in control, or he’d never get through her mental barriers. They stood firm and resolute against him. “Don’t worry. We can test your immunity to something else.”

He seized her forearms, willing his icy touch into her flesh and circuits and soul. She screamed. The cold was so intense it burned her skin on contact and warped the polished metal of her replacement limb.

“Not too comfortable, is it?” he hissed. “You know I’ve heard that the pain of feeling one’s blood freeze in their veins is unimaginable. You see, you can still feel it, but you can’t react.”

His grip tightened as he wove his magic in with his icy skin. Her snarl died in her throat as her muscles seized up, unable to do anything as the liquid that kept them moving solidified in its place.

He removed his hands, willing fire into the ice, boiling it almost instantly. At that she hissed again, eyes going so wide he could see the bits of white at the edge of her large pupils. He could find no satisfaction in his actions. Not, even after she’d nearly killed Thor, after she’d nearly killed him. He tested her mind. It was still barred.

“Ah, so heat can affect you,” he said with false bravado, not a task difficult for a Liesmith. “This will be much more interesting with two elements,” He wasn’t sure how long it would take, how long he would have to spend in that damned room tearing at her stamina, at her mental blockades. How long could he listen to her scream?

He felt her resistance falter - for an instant - enough to allow him access. In an instant, his palm set against her skull and he forced his mind into her own. There was no room for gentleness. _Where is your army coming from? When? Who is sending them?_

 

~~~

 

He was standing in an asteroid field. Chunks of rock floated by like aimless clouds, bouncing off each other in the empty space. There was a projection set up of the Earth, created by some kind of advanced technology Loki understood but couldn’t place. There was a robed figure standing next to the spinning hologram. _The Other._

 _“Where do you will your forces to meet you? To raise this pathetic world to the ground so that we may take for ourselves all the stones they hold dear,”_ he said, swaying as he spoke. His voice was guttural, abrasive. It made  Nebula - and by extension Loki - nervous for reasons Loki couldn’t quite reach. He tried to grasp for an explanation, but Nebula’s thoughts seemed to slip right through his fingers.

 _“Set them to attack the largest settlement near the stone. I wish to see the humans scatter,”_ Nebula answered. She was testing the weight of the scepter she’d been given. It swung nicely - balanced well despite the heaviness of the gem casing and blades attached to one end. She liked it. It’s brutal but slight appearance suited her.

 _“Then they shall be sent. Four days after yourself they will be ready to arrive- ”_ He paused and pointed at a spot in the middle of the western coast of the United States. _“ -here. Be prepared for them.”_

 _“Oh, I will,”_ Nebula answered, smiling and stalking off with her new weapon slung over her shoulder.

 

Loki was shaken by the sudden change in scene. He was still in that asteroid field, but Nebula did not have her scepter. She did not, Loki noticed, have as many of the mechanical enhancements as she did when he’d met her. This was earlier, then.

There was a figure standing in front of Nebula, towering, horrifying. He knew it: Thanos. Loki’s blood ran cold not at that name, but at the name Nebula addressed him as:  _Father._

He stepped forward to Nebula – and by extension Loki - saying to her things he’d said a thousand times before, about how he was disappointed in her weakness and pathetic abilities. Loki saw Nebula’s other _siblings_ standing by to watch.

All of them couldn’t have been actually related. There was a pair of armored grey-skinned beings, a man and woman, standing next to a hulking brownish-green monster with scales and downturned lips. In his shadow, Loki just caught sight of a much slimmer grey-skinned man with dark eyes. Off to one side stood a green-skinned woman with-

Loki was unable to process more as horrifying pain tore through the body that he shared with Nebula in the memory. He tried to scream, but she was already doing that for him. The invasive sensation of hands and machinery tearing into his chest and rebuilding a part of his body stronger, **better** than it had before filled his every shared thought.

Again and again, the process was repeated until Nebula resembled the form he knew her in. Every time hurt more than the last, felt more invasive than the last. When he was not being torn apart in the memories Loki saw roughly the same happening to the other children of Thanos. They were tortured and pitted against each other to fight and fail and struggle and **hate** as the Mad Titan laughed at them.

 

~~~

Loki pulled himself back to his senses and took several steps away. Both he and Nebula were gasping for breath. He felt a sheen of sweat on his pale skin. It had changed back to its Aesir colors. The shock must have made him shift. Nebula looked up at him.

“That’s it. **That’s** who’s coming for all of you. He’ll be here for the cube, for all the stones on this miserable planet, if I fail,” she said, her feral grin sliding back onto her features, “and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.” Loki found his resolve and held tight to it, glaring back at her cold and unaffected.

“Then he will fail as you have. He will watch his plans and his children burn around him, and I will find his worst memories and make him relive them more times over than he can count,” he finished, turning on his heel and leaving the room as Nebula began to cackle maniacally.

He’d been expecting the cold, uncertain stares he received upon exiting Nebula’s chamber. Sure enough, they had been watching through the trick glass as he’d broken her resolve and pulled her most terrible memories from her mind. He looked past them to Fury.

“Someplace heavily populated on your western coast. You have roughly a day of peace before they arrive. I suggest you prepare accordingly,” he said, and then left the room. His hold on his confidence was slipping.

His new memories flashed before his vision as Loki swept down the corridors: looking for a place to collect his thoughts: to hide. The sensation of being torn apart got stronger. The Mad Titan’s laughter and Nebula’s cackling echoed in his mind.

There was an open door ahead of him. Its dark safety shone like a beacon. He ducked inside, closing the door behind him with a telekinetic pull. Even in the dark, it was still too much. He had to ground himself.

There was a cabinet against one wall. He braced himself over the surface, pale, Asgardian hands splayed out in front of him and eyes focus on his own blurry reflection. Those memories were not his own, no matter how much they mirrored some he did claim. That comparison did cause him to feel some small amount of sympathy for Nebula.

Regardless, he had to catalog them, store them away to be ignored because they didn’t matter. He couldn’t let them send him into a frenzy. He couldn’t let his judgment waiver. He’d how dangerous that could be.

The door slid open and the light clicked on. Loki straightened and had a dagger ready. Then he recognized the figure standing there. The vibrant red cape, shaggy blond hair, and hammer held in a firm grip were all too familiar.

“Thor,” he tried to say casually, the attempt ruined by the crack in his voice. The dagger vanished from his hand.

“Fury is delivering your report to Stark and the others who were not present in the laboratory. We would like you there to provide more details on what you have learned. It is possible that...Loki?” He hadn’t realized he’d balled his fists and clenched his jaw. He forced himself to relax his muscles, to look as calm as possible.

“I should not have pushed you to do that should I?” Thor asked. The Thunderer’s tone left a sour taste in Loki’s mouth. He didn’t need Thor’s pity.

“You didn’t _push_ me to do anything, Thor. It was my choice,” he said brushing past him into the hallway. “You said we had somewhere to be?” Thor turned, refusing to give up on the conversation.

“Still that doesn’t mean-”

“I can manage what I learned. I don’t need you breathing down my neck at every instance!” He’d probably come too close to showing how rattled he’d been with the phrasing, but he had did shut Thor up. The Thunderer scowled at the floor as he pushed past Loki and led the way down the hall. Loki knew the tension in Thor’s shoulder’s meant they wouldn’t be having much of any kind of conversation for some time.

Loki was somewhat surprised by the crowd they met in the lab. For one, Fury was not present. Secondly, Jane had been brought aboard the base. Thor immediately abandoned Loki for her, yet Loki’s presence did not go unnoticed.

“Hey, Reindeer Games,” Stark said, addressing Loki; he was not fond of the nickname. “Fury says you have some alien expertise you could lend to our study of Nebula’s glowstick of destiny.”

“We have a serious threat on our hands. We need to make a plan of action before running experiments,” Rogers interjected, turning to Stark, “because in case you’ve forgotten we have a scientist missing that not only is in possession of the cube but also can transform into a highly destructive being.”

“Which we can handle if we can find him,” Natasha said. She pulled up a map on a nearby screen - much to Tony’s chagrin as it went over several scientific diagrams. “Loki we need as exact a location as possible on where Nebula’s forces are going to be arriving if we have any hope of stopping her and getting the Tesseract back.”

Barton continued the line of thought as she turned to zoom in on a certain section of the map. “Stark’s already figured out that Nebula took Dr. Banner because she needs to bring her army here. The Tesseract can make a portal to do that.”

“The Tesseract belongs to Asgard,” Thor said, impressing Loki with his forwardness. “It is far more than a match for human technology and likely the reason Nebula was drawn here in the first place.”

“You all didn’t seem to eager on getting it back seventy years ago,” Steve interjected. Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. There wouldn’t be progress made on any fronts until they could come to an agreement. He suspected that would take a while.


	18. Moving Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup nerds so my horrid end of years tests start soon, BUT THAT DOESNT MEAN I'M GONNA STOP WRITING. I will procrastinate through this fic probably as much as possible.
> 
> Hope you enjoy (screaming at this chapter) and please let me know what you think!

Things were quiet, for the first time in the past day, as Loki sat going through information in the helicarrier’s laboratory. The group’s debate on their plan of action had lasted until early evening when a tentative agreement was reached and everyone had dispersed for dinner. Loki, along with Stark, had chosen to eat in the lab. Barton had dropped in an hour after they’d finished to bid them goodnight, and from that point on the only disturbances had been the occasional guard detail passing by the sound-damped windows.

“Alright, I’m calling it for the night,” Stark said, standing up from his chair and dropping his fourth paper coffee cup in the trash. “The tracking simulation on the Tesseract's up and running. Jarvis will let everyone know when that’s done. I don’t know what else you want to work your voodoo on, or how much you guys even need to sleep so…”

“We require far less rest than humans do-” It was a lie, but he needed time alone in the lab. “-so I will be here for the remainder of the night.”

Stark nodded at that. “Right. Well uh, see ya around I guess.”

He waited until Stark had disappeared from view before moving. For the past several hours, he had been preparing a movement pattern for an illusion to run through at the screen he’d been sitting at. It was such an annoyingly trite yet complicated piece of machinery that it had taken him several spells and a fair portion of time to get the device to move through programs in time to his illusion, but the process was done.

The Scepter was where it had been all night: clamped in place several inches off a work table’s surface, humming at a volume one could only hear when they neared it. That had been the first thing to catch his attention about the weapon. Usually, only technological artifacts would emit a constant noise when left idle without the presence of the wielder, but Nebula’s use of the weapon had shown it to match all the qualities of a magical device.

He’d been pondering the question all evening. The fact that it was emitting an energy signal apparently consistent with that of the Tesseract was even more confusing, as Loki had not sensed that kind of signal from the weapon.

After dinner though, he’d been able to discreetly analyze the various material of the weapon while Stark was swearing at several lines of code that Loki may or may not have purposely tampered with. The gem casing, he'd learned, was a power dampener, with traces of magical energy that was extremely familiar. He hadn’t had the opportunity to dig deeper with Stark there though. Alone, he had free reign.

Picking out and following the trail of the object’s history was a complicated ritual that required hours to complete. If he had discovered something valuable during the process Stark would likely have found out and demanded him to share the information. Loki was not willing to take that risk when the humans had already learned so much - and come close to learning much more - about himself, Thor, and the Tesseract’s true nature.

Yet, in the solidarity of the lab, he was able to work. He reached into his pockets between worlds for various bits of herbs and powders - items necessary to do the ritual spell at full power - and set himself up at the table where the scepter rested. The movements he made to prepare the spell were ingrained in his muscle memory. Every flick, pinch, and flourish was thoughtless despite how little he made use of the spell overall. It was simply leftover from his practice as a child. He’d spent dozens of afternoons learning the histories of the quills, books and trinkets in his room.

It had all been part of his training, the careful studies he’d pursued while Thor had been battling guards in the training grounds. Any of them could come see the young prince growing in skill. Loki’s fighting practice had been far more private, overseen only by Frigga. It had not helped to lessen the growing rift between the brothers.

Loki wondered if he and Thor would ever train together again. Part of him jumped at the idea of working with his brother after so much time apart, both during thor banishment and in the years leading up to it. Another part of him shunned the idea, citing the same timeframe as evidence to why it would be a poor idea.

He steeled himself as the spell flared to life. A lack of focus in spellwork always caused problems. His issues with Thor could be settled at a later time, probably.

Golden-yellow dust danced between his fingers, drifting on waves of green. He brought the spell up to the scepter. No going back. He would learn what this damned thing was, and how Nebula came to wield it. He glanced at the clock one last time before pushing the spell into the scepter. He’d have to work quickly.

 

Dawn broke slowly through the clouds the helicarrier sailed through, but the lab was filled with early morning light before the sun had fully breached the horizon. The golden rays reflecting off the metal equipment would have been a fascinating sight, had anyone been around to see it.

Stark wandered in about an hour after the sight had faded. A cup of coffee was clutched in his already grease-stained hands. It was perfectly brewed and still-steaming, but it never reached his lips. The whole thing came crashing to the ground the moment he took stock of the room.

Only moments later the entire group that had been arguing in the lab the night before was assembled there. Clint and Natasha were arguing in tense whispers. Thor would not stop pacing. Steve stood still as a statue next to Fury who was audibly grinding his teeth. All of them were trying to process the meaning of the note left in the midst of the burned up spell materials by the scepter: 'Off to learn how to get your scientist back. Back soon. -L'

“Does he do this often?” Fury asked, causing Thor to pause in his pacing and pinch his nose.

“He has always been one for mischief, but I have never known him to be this reckless,” Thor replied. He wondered how much his own actions of late had factored into Loki’s decision to leave alone. If he could not find Loki, the Thunderer worried Jane advice might have been too little, too late.

 

“You know ordinarily I’d call you mad for attempting something like this,” Heimdall said, causing Loki to roll his eyes.

“I doubt that. It’s not like I’ve never participated in something this dangerous.”

Heimdall chuckled. “True, but you’ve never done it alone, and you’ve certainly never asked for my help in doing so. I suppose this is an improvement.”

Loki smirked as he adjusted the satchel thrown over his shoulder. Interdimensional pockets were nice, but sometimes it was easier to just have what he needed on hand. That would be especially true for this mission.

He’d need to save his save energy for things more important than summoning spells. Bifrost opened before him as he finished resecuring the straps. He didn’t bid Heimdall farewell as he stepped through into the harsh yellow light; he was too focused on the task before him.

 _Almost like focusing on a spell,_ he thought to himself amusedly. It would be good to enjoy his humor while he could. The place he was going was either going to be a horrific wasteland or present him with a challenge he hadn’t faced in decades.

He couldn’t be too concerned though, he reminded himself.  In the past few months, he’d had plenty of experience in dealing with nightmares. The ones on Alfheim would be no different.


End file.
